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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25840552">Checkmate Wang</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuxtaposeFantasy/pseuds/JuxtaposeFantasy'>JuxtaposeFantasy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chinese Actor RPF, EXO (Band), GOT7, UNIQ (Band), 这！就是街舞 | Street Dance of China (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Bottom Wang Yi Bo, Breathplay, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, mild dub con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:28:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25840552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuxtaposeFantasy/pseuds/JuxtaposeFantasy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson Wang is a brilliant, risk-taking young executive who’s being blackballed by the most powerful businessman in China: Wang Zheng. When Wang Zheng’s black sheep son, Wang Yibo, proposes that he and Jackson play lovers to obtain revenge against his father, Jackson suspects there’s more to this than meets the eye. Enter Jackson's lover Yixing, who has a plan of his own.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jackson Wang/Wang Yi Bo, Jackson Wang/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay, Jackson Wang/Zhang Yi Xing/Wang Yi Bo, Wang Yi Bo/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>246</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Oh, ho, look at what we have here. Looks like my dancing boys have inspired an AU. Really, I find these three pretty exciting in any combination, so I'm going to write them in this classic fake lovers trope (since I've never used this trope before.) I don't know how many chapters this will be. I do know that it will be porny. I'll add tags as we go along. I'll add a little plot here and there 😏 Hope you enjoy! (and if you like these guys, check out my The Gege Collector story for more of them)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The brandy in Jackson Wang’s stomach felt like acid boring a hole through him. It didn’t matter that he’d ingested the most expensive liquor in the bar—in the end it only served to make him feel worse because it was money he didn’t have to spare.</p><p>He should have been over this. It had been a little over three weeks since his dreams were crushed and his career aspirations flushed down the toilet. Jackson wasn’t the type of man to dwell on the past. But this—this was more than something that had happened to him. This was someone burning down his home and following him to burn down any other home he moved into. This was an annihilation of his person and he <i>felt</i> it. Oh, how he felt it. The acid currently eating him alive was nothing compared to the rage that threatened to explode his heart.</p><p>From the corner of his eye, he saw the woman at the end of the bar cast another look his way. She was dressed well and her grooming looked as though it cost a fortune to maintain, but in these hotel bars you never knew if the women were gold diggers dressed in rented finery. Her continued attention at least told him that the maelstrom inside him hadn’t made it onto his face, and that his situation hadn’t gotten around yet. That was some consolation. Everything else may have been stolen from him, but at least his misery wasn’t yet on display for all to ridicule.</p><p>Nonetheless, for her own sake the woman had better not come over. Jackson smiled bitterly at his reflection in the mirror behind the liquor bottles. If anyone approached him right now he would tear them a new one. The veneer of composure he wore was only that. Tug it away and they’d see the terrible man he was on the verge of becoming.</p><p>He was musing over that awful prediction for himself when someone did approach him. His fingers tightened around the glass of brandy.</p><p>“I have a better suggestion for you than moping.”</p><p>He nearly did it. He nearly stood up and tossed the contents of his glass into the speaker’s face. The only thing stopping him was the reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t the woman behind him. It was someone else. </p><p>“If you sit down,” Jackson said through gritted teeth, “I will kill you.”</p><p>Wang Yibo, managing to look too expensive for a bar that catered to only the wealthiest denizens of Shanghai, moved to stand beside Jackson’s stool. He carried with him the faint scent of sandalwood. The younger man was gorgeous tonight, draped in a complicated scarlet top striped with chains while his long legs were hugged by skintight black pants. His small, fine featured face was lightly accented with makeup, but only a touch. Wang Yibo was naturally beautiful. It made him recognizable everywhere.</p><p>“If you kill me,” Yibo said casually as he glanced into Jackson’s glass, “my father will have the last laugh as he sends you to prison. I highly doubt you could live with that.”</p><p>“I’ll kill him after.”</p><p>“I know you want to. I hope you’re aware of how stupid that would be.” Yibo leaned an elbow on the bar as though he were chitchatting with a friend. “He would ruin your life twice, instead of just the once.”</p><p>Jackson wasn’t surprised that Wang Yibo knew what his father had done to him. The two of them had probably had a laugh about it, though Jackson recalled that Yibo hadn’t been seen in the company of his father for a couple of years now despite both living in the same city.</p><p>“How does it feel to be the spawn of someone so evil?” Jackson asked him with a smile better suited to a shark. “Does it run in the blood? A deal made with the Devil? Is that why you look the way you do? You bought your handsomeness with your soul?”</p><p>Yibo smirked. “Are you drunk? Have you been drunk ever since my father bankrupted Fuji National?”</p><p>The name alone was enough to wring a shiver out of Jackson. “I was going to be the youngest president in its history.”</p><p>“You were. Now the business is gone and you’re not even a lowly assistant.”</p><p>“Because your father sabotaged the company!” Jackson hissed.</p><p>“Yes. After Fuji National headhunted you into leaving <i>his</i> company.” Yibo’s careless shrug had Jackson contemplating hitting him with his glass. “My father felt betrayed by you and Fuji National. Therefore he had to destroy you both.” Yibo grimaced before looking down to brush imaginary lint off his top. “And he’ll keep destroying you, no matter who hires you, until you leave China with your tail tucked between your legs. He’s a very vindictive man.”</p><p>The words felt heavy. There was something there. A story. Yibo’s own experience crossing his father, perhaps.</p><p>“Why are you here talking to me?” Jackson demanded. “To gloat? To tell your father his plan is working perfectly? Go ahead. Tell him I’m a shell of a man now that I’m being blackballed by one of the richest and most powerful men in Asia.”</p><p>“No.” Yibo pushed the glass of brandy away from Jackson’s hands before turning his limpid gaze to him. “I’m not here to gloat. I’m here with a proposition.”</p><p>Jackson couldn’t help the way his own gaze fell down the long, slender length of the other man. Yibo reminded him of an orchid: delicate and precious, too beautiful to touch, only to be admired. But because he was so stunning and because Jackson felt so emasculated by the senior Wang, Jackson wanted only to crush Wang Yibo beneath his heel.</p><p>“Is the proposition the destruction of the Wang family?” he asked sarcastically.</p><p>“You’re close,” Yibo said, sounding unbothered by Jackson’s words or the paradoxical heat in his gaze. “I want to help you obtain revenge against my father.”</p><p>~~~~~</p><p>
  <i>You’re close.</i>
</p><p>Jackson had moved on to soda water and lime in an attempt to ease his stomach. It wasn’t because he wanted to be sober to hear Wang Yibo’s proposition, though that wouldn’t be a bad idea, either. But Jackson wasn’t convinced that the other man was here for any reason that would benefit him. What little he knew of Wang Yibo suggested his interests were entirely self-centered.</p><p>Despite having the father that he did, Yibo had rejected the family business—or so the rumors went. Jackson never took anything at face value. There had to be more to the story. Yibo had gone into modeling, where he’d quickly become a fashion darling both because of his notoriety and because he was genuinely intriguing to look at. He made every outfit he wore, from the sporty to the avant garde, look as though it were accompanied by a fascinating drama. After being featured on the cover of every major fashion magazine in Asia, Yibo apparently grew bored with being a human hanger and changed course into extreme sports. Snowboarding led to skateboarding which led to his current passion of motorcycle racing. Not once during this odyssey had Yibo stepped foot inside the Wang Consolidation building.</p><p>His careless lifestyle and snubbing of his father’s demands created something of a scandal. Wang Zheng, dead set on keeping business within the family, needed an heir to take over his $200 billion dollar empire. Yibo was supposed to be it. Yet he hadn’t done a single day’s work for Wang Consolidated, something Wang Zheng’s competitors salivated over and mentioned whenever they had the chance. It hinted, they said, at future weakness in the company.</p><p>The reality was that there was no urgency. Wang Zheng was a robust fifty-four year-old and his son was twenty-three. Wang Yibo might be having the time of his life now, flouting his father’s rules, but the business world at large—Jackson included—knew he would eventually buckle beneath the immense pressure put on him by his father. One day, and that day would certainly come, Wang Yibo would enter the family business and become the new executive chairman.  </p><p>So why was he here?</p><p>“You were my father’s protégé,” Yibo said as he ran a fingertip around the rim of his martini glass. They’d moved to a table for two in a corner of the bar. Jackson had granted him ten minutes. If he didn’t like what he heard within that time frame he’d leave without a backwards glance. “One day you would have been the second most powerful person in the company.”</p><p>“And I would never be more than that. When you take his place, I’d still be an executive vice chairman.”</p><p>Yibo’s finger skittered off the rim before returning and resuming its slow slide. “So your greed drove you to accept Fuji’s offer. Loyalty to my father meant nothing to you.”</p><p>“Not greed,” Jackson argued calmly. He presented a picture of quiet grace, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee. But his insides were churning as they rehashed past events. “If I had taken Fuji’s offer to your father, he would have matched it. Exceeded it, even.”</p><p>Yibo’s eyes were intent. “Then why didn’t you?”</p><p>“Because it wasn’t about the money. I’m twenty-six years old. My dream is to be the head of a powerful company. That would never happen inside Wang Consolidated, so I had to leave. Fuji National was young and bold and looking to conquer China after its domination of Japan. They were willing to give the entire Chinese territory to <i>me</i>. They offered me freedom and power of a degree I would never have been given by your father. The choice was as easy as it was imperative to me.”</p><p>“You sound like a man who should start his own business.”</p><p>“I would if I could,” Jackson muttered, but the words were empty. Anything he attempted would be deep-sixed by Wang Zheng within days. Bank loans, credit approval—Wang Zheng would block everything. He was just too powerful to cross.</p><p>“You don’t have the capital, and any effort to obtain any would be blocked by my father,” Yibo guessed.</p><p>Jackson saluted him with his glass, the acid beginning to boil again.</p><p>“So you’re screwed.”</p><p>“You’ve wasted my time,” Jackson muttered, moving to stand.</p><p>“If you’re screwed, you may as well take him down with you,” Yibo said.</p><p>Jackson hesitated with both feet on the ground. He didn’t look over at the younger man. “How could I possibly do that? If I can’t help myself, how could I ruin him?”</p><p>“By taking me as your lover.”</p><p>Jackson resumed his seat, though he questioned why he did so. “You must have done your research about me and learned that I’m amused by the stupidest things.”</p><p>“I’m not here to amuse you.” The cool side of Yibo that lived on the covers of magazines appeared in the man across from Jackson. “What’s my father’s most important possession?”</p><p>“His company.”</p><p>Yibo didn’t flinch. “Then let’s say his second most important. That would be me. His legacy lives in me. Wang Consolidated only survives if I take it over. Or so he believes. But, that’s never going to happen.”</p><p>Jackson chuckled at his naivete. “You’re taking over the company, Wang Yibo. You just don’t know it yet. There’s no choice for you.”</p><p>“That’s why I’m making it my father’s choice. His choice to disown me, that is.”</p><p>Jackson could have used the expensive brandy to deal with this. “Why in the hell would he do that? Because you like to play with bikes?”</p><p>“They’re not toys. They’re worth more than you are. Secondly, no. I’ve tried to convince him I’m serious about racing and it obviously hasn’t worked. He thinks it’s a phase. My interests won’t ever be enough to truly infuriate my father.” Yibo’s gaze darkened. “But there is something he hates more than anything else in this world. Some<i>one</i>, whose mere name sends his blood pressure soaring.”</p><p>Jackson experienced a moment’s pleasure in hearing that Wang Zheng hated his guts as much as Jackson hated his. At least the misery was mutual to a small degree. But the power imbalance remained.</p><p>“Yes, he hates me and he’s doing his best to show me,” Jackson drawled. “So what?”</p><p>“You want power, Jackson. What if you were given the power to devastate him?” Yibo lifted his martini glass and poured its contents between his plush lips. “What if you could ruin his legacy?”</p><p>It all fell into place, and Jackson took a moment to consider Yibo’s plan.</p><p>“He hates homosexuals that much?” he asked, dubious.</p><p>“If he did, you would have been fired long ago.”</p><p>Jackson stilled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“If you’d like to pretend that my father never knew about you, go ahead. It doesn’t change the facts.”</p><p>If Wang Zheng had known that Jackson was gay but kept him employed, that meant he’d valued Jackson over his own morals. No wonder Jackson’s decision to leave had struck the older man so deeply, not that Jackson felt sorry in any way. Wang Zheng was no hero for swallowing his distaste of Jackson’s sexuality to benefit from the money he made for the company.</p><p>“Being gay wouldn’t be enough for him to disinherit me,” Yibo said, confirming Jackson’s thoughts. “He’d pinch his nose and endure it so long as I kept the company profitable. It needs to be more than that. <i>Worse</i> than that.”</p><p>Jackson snorted. “Then what, a sex tape of you and me?” </p><p>Once, he’d picked up a magazine featuring Yibo wearing a woman’s dress that the young man had hiked up to his thighs while he straddled a motorcycle. It was supposed to be an artsy, high concept shot, but to Jackson and no doubt anyone with a pulse, the image was pure provocation. However, the thought of sex with Yibo had never previously crossed Jackson’s mind despite absently noting that Wang Yibo was the most attractive man he’d ever seen. The connection to Wang Zheng had instantly killed any possible feelings of desire for the young man.</p><p>“I didn’t say I was gay,” Yibo told him. “There won’t be any sex involved.”</p><p>Jackson sighed deeply, his brief interest fizzling. “Then how much scandal can we create beyond fake angles? The paparazzi will see through that.”</p><p>“We can bring a certain element into our fake relationship that will cause my father to lose face. He can’t bear to lose face. Not like this.”</p><p>Jackson was back to being curious. “What is this ‘certain element’ which holds so much power?”</p><p>“You just said it: power.”</p><p>Jackson waited him out, resisting the urge to walk out. He hated being played, and this felt very close to it. He watched a muscle in Yibo’s sharp jaw ripple as though he’d clenched his teeth. It was the first time he’d shown a hint of anxiousness. </p><p>“To be a successful businessman in my father’s world you need to be strong and ruthless,” Yibo began. “You need to be dominant. An alpha. There’s no room for weakness. Or perceived weakness.” He glanced at Jackson before looking away coolly. “I’m aware of what people think about me.”</p><p>“That you’re precious and spoiled, you mean?” Jackson asked with a wide, innocent smile.</p><p>Yibo didn’t bother with a glare. “People who don’t know me think I play around because I can’t make a decision for myself. They think I’m incompetent. Soft.” Yibo looked uncomfortable saying it, but it could have been an act. “If you become my lover, if you’re publicly controlling and seemingly taking advantage of me, my father will be so disgusted he won’t be able to look at me. He’ll be ashamed to meet with his competitors for fear they’ll mention my name to him. My weakness will become his. Which will never happen, by the way. He’d disinherit me before that could happen, and so I’d win.”</p><p>“Win,” Jackson repeated, skeptical.</p><p>Yibo’s eyes flashed, full of determination. “I have enough money of my own to last for lifetimes. I just want to be left alone and allowed to race. For your help, I’ll bankroll whatever business you want to start up. You can build your empire and I’ll be free. We both win.”</p><p>“Just to be clear,” Jackson said slowly, because for as intelligent as he was, this concept wasn’t an easy one to grasp, “you want me to pretend to be your lover.”</p><p>“Not just a lover, a possessive and controlling one. There needs to be no doubt in his mind that I serve you in the bedroom. It will turn my father’s stomach.”</p><p>“So like, slap you around a little? Call you demeaning names?”</p><p>Jackson couldn’t be sure, but he thought the eyeshadow around Yibo’s eyes reddened. “If that’s necessary.”</p><p>“Thanks for clarifying.” Jackson stood and straightened his jacket. “I may be gay, I may be desperate, but I’m not sick in the head like you Wangs apparently are. You come near me again, Wang Yibo, and I promise that you’ll regret it.”</p><p>He thought he saw a flash of disappointment on Yibo’s face but didn’t stick around to confirm it. He had to get away from that family before he did something that would get him throw him in jail.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Enter Yixing...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jackson woke up the next morning with swollen eyes.</p><p>“What happened to the badass who told off Wang Yibo?” he mocked himself as he stared at the pathetic-looking man in the bathroom mirror. “Do you need the courage of alcohol to be a man?”</p><p>His reflection could only grimace, reluctant to offer an answer.</p><p>A long shower washed the salt from his cheeks but not the memory of his grief. He didn’t know himself anymore. The old him was confident, bright-eyed, and quick to smile. The man he’d become was a sponge of ugly emotions dripping at inconvenient times. One minute he wanted to kick someone’s ass, the next he wanted to hide in bed and never come out again. It was disgraceful, but he didn’t know what to do about it. Until his relationship with Wang Zheng changed, Jackson’s situation was only going to grow worse.</p><p>As he brushed his teeth, he mused at how ironic it was that Wang Yibo was looking for someone to humiliate him and here Jackson was, experiencing it at the hands of the man’s father. What a twisted family that was. Jackson would pity Wang Yibo if the man didn’t possess everything that Jackson didn’t. Jackson’s pity was better aimed at himself.</p><p>He dressed with no intention of leaving his apartment. There was no point. He’d been on three job interviews since Fuji declared bankruptcy under a restructuring plan that didn’t include him. Two of those interviews had been cancelled while he was on his way to the appointments. The third had been held with an intern from the HR department, minus any upper management present. Interviewing Jackson had been a training exercise for her.</p><p>It had been a learning experience for him, too. It taught him that Wang Zheng’s reach extended far beyond his own company and into the pockets of many others. Jackson Wang was persona non grata in China for as long as Wang Zheng hated him. It was as simple as that. As frightening as that.</p><p>So what to do now?</p><p>He prepared a simple breakfast of eggs, unable to concentrate on anything more elaborate while he calculated the resale value of his furniture and artwork. He’d sell his Benz, too, even though he loved it. But it was time to downsize. Jackson had never had to scrape together an existence, but he suspected he was about to learn, and learn quickly. With the bills of his previous lifestyle still coming due, he was going to end up in the red very, very soon</p><p>The chime startled him. He wasn’t expecting any visitors. Braced for the worst, he opened the door only to immediately sag in relief.</p><p>“It’s you,” he breathed. “I was afraid it was some other guy who can’t keep his nose out of my business.”</p><p>“Nice to see you, too,” Zhang Yixing said pleasantly as he pushed past Jackson and into his condo.</p><p>“Sure. Come on in. Make yourself comfortable. My house is your house, even when it isn’t.”</p><p>Yixing ignored him as he took a look around. He was dressed in a flashy suit as usual, a deep maroon number because Yixing might be a young and brilliant CEO, but he was a maverick just like Jackson and he liked to stand out.</p><p>“I’ve heard some funny rumors,” Yixing said.</p><p>“Here we go,” Jackson said with false cheer and shuffled past him to throw himself across his sofa. “By the way, if you want an espresso you’ll have to make it yourself.”</p><p>“Shouldn’t you be practicing your coffee-making skills?”</p><p>Jackson shot him a dirty look. “This is only temporary, Yixing.”</p><p>The older man grinned. “Are you hoping Wang Zheng will have a heart attack soon? You’ll be waiting a long time if that’s the case. He’s in great health.”</p><p>“I’ll figure out something. I’m brilliant, remember? You told me so all the time.”</p><p>“I was trying to get you into bed,” Yixing said with a shrug. “It worked.” He walked to the floor to ceiling window and looked out at the spectacular view of Waitan.</p><p>He looked handsome framed against the waterfront landscape. Jackson mourned the view, fearing he wouldn’t be seeing it again in the future. No more coming home after long days at work and watching the cargo ships sailing back and forth through the evening fog on the Huangpu River. No more admiring the city lights painted across Yixing’s naked back on the nights that he came over. Jackson might have to move out of Shanghai entirely.</p><p>A hand caressing his hair drew him from his morose contemplation of the view. He smiled wanly up at Yixing. “I’m in big trouble, ge.”</p><p>“Maybe.” Yixing gently brushed a knuckle across the swollen skin beneath Jackson’s eye. “You haven’t slept properly.”</p><p>“Wang Zheng is out to destroy me,” he retorted. “How am I supposed to sleep?”</p><p>“It’s a problem.” Yixing tucked both hands into his trouser pockets and walked to the window again, looking out. “Never have I wished I were a bigger fish in the pond, Jackson. You know I’d do anything to help you.”</p><p>“Don’t. Don’t even talk about it. He’ll crush you, too. I couldn’t live with that.”</p><p>“He’s too big,” Yixing acknowledged. “He’s dangerous. One man shouldn’t possess so much power.”</p><p>“I’m not arguing with you.” Jackson glanced at his kitchen. “You want that espresso? I don’t mind making it.”</p><p>“No, I’m fine, thanks.” Yixing turned his back on the window. “I heard another rumor about you. From last night.”</p><p>Jackson groaned beneath his breath. “I’m gonna go make an espresso. You should have one, too. I make the best ones.”</p><p>Yixing followed him to the kitchen and watched him prepare the machine. “You met with Wang Zheng’s son.”</p><p>Jackson mentally kicked himself for not doing a better job—hell, <i>any</i> job—of checking for prying eyes last night. He’d been too pissed off to think about it.</p><p>“He was the one who found me. I did <i>not</i> go crawling on my knees to him for help,” Jackson clarified.</p><p>Yixing leaned an elbow on the counter, unknowingly mimicking the pose Wang Yibo had taken last night at the bar. “What did he want from you?”</p><p>“To give me a good laugh. To insult me. I think he was going for the trifecta.”</p><p>Jackson’s flippancy didn’t put Yixing off the trail. </p><p>“What did he want?” Yixing repeated patiently.</p><p>When he wanted something, when he’d decided that this was how something should be, Yixing’s mind was difficult to change, and no one knew that better than Jackson. They’d met not in a boardroom or in an office, but in a nightclub. Jackson had closed a huge deal and had wanted to celebrate with more than hotpot with colleagues. He’d needed to let loose, something he didn’t get to do often enough with his busy schedule. So the club had been it, and he’d been dancing his ass off when he’d noticed another man drawing attention with his wild arm swings.</p><p>Jackson didn’t know enough about the street dance scene in China to know if this guy was good enough to be a pro, but he’d seen enough to be impressed anyway. Jackson had danced his way over to him and pretended to battle him, though mostly he’d used it as an excuse to grind on him.</p><p>“You’ll never see me again,” Yixing had warned five dances later when he had Jackson pressed to a wall in a darkened hall of the club, dizzy with lust.</p><p>“I’ll change your mind about that,” Jackson had panted. </p><p>He hadn’t been wrong.</p><p>The next morning in bed, they discovered to their mutual amusement that they were professional rivals. Yixing’s company—LIT Enterprises—regularly competed against Wang Consolidated for business.</p><p>“Does this mean we can have angry hate sex?” Jackson had proposed as he slid over Yixing’s hips.</p><p>“It means don’t even think of trying to use this to gain an advantage over me,” Yixing had replied as he slid a palm up the center of Jackson’s body, chasing drops of sweat. “This is a hookup and nothing more.”</p><p>“Sure,” Jackson agreed. He dropped his head back as he began to rock. “Whatever you say, Yixing-ge.”</p><p>Jackson, of course, hadn’t stuck to the rules. He’d called Yixing up the next business day and insisted on a ‘meeting’. Jackson had ended up bent over the end of Yixing enormous lacquer desk while Yixing fucked his brains out and tried his best not to wrinkle his own four-thousand dollar suit.</p><p>“You’re a peacock,” Jackson accused numerous times. In truth, he found Yixing’s sophistication and style irresistible. This was a man he could imagine building a future with.</p><p>But despite Jackson’s considerable efforts, Yixing remained unyielding when it came to something serious between them. Yixing insisted Jackson was too hyper for him. Jackson called him an old man at twenty-nine.</p><p>For that reason, it never crossed his mind to ask Yixing for help. They were friends with benefits who’d kept their business and pleasure connections firmly separated. Jackson wasn’t about to cross that line and spoil what they had. Yixing’s friendship was too valuable to lose and he wasn’t sure, when it came down to it, how far the older man would go for his sake. There was no question that Yixing liked him and was fond of him, but was there anything deeper? Jackson didn’t know.</p><p>A thought jumped into Jackson’s head: if Wang Zheng had known Jackson was gay, did he also know that he was sleeping with a competitor?</p><p>The possibility chilled him. He needed to keep Yixing out of this so his friend didn’t fall victim to Wang Zheng, too. Talking about Wang Yibo with Yixing wouldn’t help. Wang Yibo was a wild card.</p><p>“He hates his father,” Jackson said evasively. “I guess he wanted to chat since we have that in common now.” When the first demitasse cup filled, he passed it along to Yixing.</p><p>“He didn’t seek you out to chat,” Yixing said with a shake of the head. He sipped from the cup, his fingers holding it elegantly. “Tell me what he wanted.”</p><p>“Or you’ll spank me?” Jackson asked, only half-joking.</p><p>“I’ll <i>stop</i> spanking you.”</p><p>“You know me too well,” Jackson lamented. He swallowed his own cup of espresso in one shot, gasping at the burn of his tongue and throat. “Does it really matter what Wang Yibo wanted? I didn’t like what he had to say and I left.”</p><p>“I want to know what he had to say.”</p><p>That stubbornness again. Jackson wished Yixing would bend, just once.</p><p>“The spoiled brat wanted to use me to play out some dumb plan of his. That’s it.”</p><p>Yixing didn’t appear surprised, which made Jackson narrow his eyes at him. “You knew he would?”</p><p>“No, but it makes sense. ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ He’s desperate for an ally.”</p><p>“Too bad we’re not friends.”</p><p>A curl slipped loose of the product holding Yixing’s hair carefully in place. The only time Jackson saw it tousled had been in that club and when Jackson got him into bed. Yixing was all class. Jackson wondered if Yixing would find him less attractive now that he was jobless and soon to be penniless and homeless. </p><p>“What’s wrong?” Yixing asked, lifting an eyebrow.</p><p>“Nothing. Nothing. Just thinking about what he said.” Jackson shook his head, still in disbelief. “He wanted us to play lovers and put on some kind of show to disgust his father enough to disown him.”</p><p>“Sounds juvenile.”</p><p>“<i>He’s</i> juvenile.”</p><p>“Is he?” Yixing’s mouth held the beginnings of a smile. “He has two successful careers and you never read about him in the gossip blogs for bad behavior. Didn’t you admit to me once that when you were in your early twenties you were arrested for public intoxication and public indecency?”</p><p>“Show me a police record,” Jackson challenged, as he inwardly laughed at the memories.</p><p>“Hmm. I must have misunderstood.”</p><p>“You must have.”</p><p>“Tell me about him.”</p><p>“You’re still—” Jackson sighed. “What’s to tell? You’ve seen photographs of him.”</p><p>“I also own the magazines that feature him on the cover,” Yixing said, throwing Jackson a smirk. “That’s only an image. Tell me about <i>him.</i>”</p><p>“Why?” Jackson muttered. “So you can jerk off later?”</p><p>Yixing laughed. “Maybe. Tell me.”</p><p>Jackson walked back to the sofa and dropped down on it. He threw an arm across his eyes in defeat. “He’s young. He’s gorgeous. Is that what you want to hear? He looks like a model and he’s bitchy like one, too. I nearly punched him in that pretty face of his. Multiple times.”</p><p>“So you want him.” </p><p>Jackson lowered his arm to glare at him. “I said I wanted to punch him.”</p><p>“Before or after you got him naked?” Yixing’s smirk brought out his dimples.</p><p>Jackson rolled forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. “He’s not gay.”</p><p>Yixing blinked twice in surprise. “I thought you said it was his idea to be lovers.”</p><p>“It was. I didn’t say he was smart. The first time we pretended to kiss he probably would have gagged. I don’t know what the hell he was thinking with a plan like that.”</p><p>“Everyone knows he’s fighting his father. Like I said, he’s desperate.”</p><p>The comment annoyed Jackson. “Desperate. Sure he is. He’s filthy rich. People fall all over themselves to give him whatever he wants. Boo-hoo that he’ll one day have to take a job I would kill for.”</p><p>“Not everyone is business-minded like we are,” Yixing murmured as he lowered himself to the sofa beside Jackson. He reached over and brushed his fingers through Jackson’s hair again. “You and I are sharks. We’re used to swimming in these waters. We enjoy it. I don’t sense a shark in him.”</p><p>“There’s a joke I could make…”</p><p>“Your trouble with Wang Zheng won’t magically disappear,” Yixing said quietly.</p><p>Jackson sobered. He wanted to lean into Yixing’s touch and find a modicum of comfort, but his stomach had soured again. </p><p>“Wang Zheng is the Great White of sharks,” he murmured, grim. “He’s not like us. I knew it on some level while I worked for him, but I never would have imagined he’d hold a grudge for so long. He’s already promoted someone to fill my job. Why keep coming after me?”</p><p>“Ego,” Yixing said. “It’s like you broke up with him and he can’t accept it, so all he thinks to do is hurt you like you hurt him.”</p><p>“I doubt I hurt him.”</p><p>“You hurt his ego. You left him. That’s not supposed to happen.”</p><p>“<i>You</i> wouldn’t care if I left.” </p><p>Jackson swallowed as he met Yixing’s gaze. They’d been sleeping together for two years. Jackson wished he could have kept his distance, but he wasn’t strong enough. He’d always believed that passion and enthusiasm could overcome any obstacle, but he’d met his match in Yixing’s carefully balanced composure.</p><p>Yixing’s smile seemed distant and slightly sad. He stroked Jackson’s temple. “How can you say that? You think I’d be any happier losing you?”</p><p>“Then don’t,” Jackson blurted. “I know my stock is low at the moment, but I’ll recover. And it’ll be easier this time now that I’m not working for Wang Zheng. We can make it work, ge.”</p><p>Yixing lowered his hand. His gaze drifted to the view outside the window. “Jackson…we’ve talked about this. Please don’t make me say what I don’t want to say to you.”</p><p>Being stabbed through the heart couldn’t have hurt more. Jackson was afraid to push, afraid Yixing would lay out in black and white all the reasons why he refused to think long-term with him. The truth would be brutal. His heart could take only so much stress in a month.</p><p>“I know, I know, it’s old news,” he said lightly despite the ache in his chest. </p><p>“Jackson—”</p><p>“I’m just trying not to think about Wang Yibo’s plan,” he barreled on, acting oblivious. “I don’t know what gave him the idea that it would work. He must live in a delusional bubble where he’s used to everyone agreeing with him.”</p><p>Yixing patted Jackson’s thigh, accepting the change of topic. “Like I said, his plan is juvenile. That doesn’t mean it couldn’t work.”</p><p>Jackson pursed his lips, skeptical.</p><p>“I’m serious,” Yixing went on. “There’s a good chance his father could react very badly to the news that his heir is sleeping with you. I’d say be careful, except you have nothing left to lose. That’s why you should consider it.”</p><p>“What about the fact that Yibo’s not gay?” Jackson asked with a snort. “I’ll look like an idiot trying to play lovey-dovey with him.”</p><p>“I have every confidence you can make it work. You’re you, after all.”</p><p>Yixing was pandering to him, but Jackson didn’t mind the ego stroke. His self-worth was in the toilet. But Yixing’s attention to this matter was a mystery.</p><p>Jackson eyed him with suspicion. “Why do you care so much about helping him get what he wants? What’s your angle in this, Yixing-ge?”</p><p>“You should be asking yourself why <i>you’re</i> not jumping at this opportunity. Wang Yibo knows his father in a way no one else does. He’s uniquely aware of Wang Zheng’s vulnerabilities.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“Our young friend’s intention is to destroy the heart of Wang Consolidated, but I say we do one better.” Yixing smiled mischievously, the way he had when he’d bluntly told Jackson that he couldn’t dance krump for shit. “We do what you really want to do: we destroy Wang Consolidated financially. Wang Yibo is the key to making that happen. You need to take advantage of this opportunity by taking advantage of him.”</p><p>Jackson frowned, but what Yixing said made sense. If Wang Zheng went down and could no longer blackball him, Jackson wouldn’t need Yibo’s pity payoff; he could build his career on his own.</p><p>Could he do it? Trick Wang Yibo and use him to benefit not only Jackson but Yixing as well?</p><p><i>Where is your priority? With Yixing or with this kid? Don’t forget that Yibo wants to use</i> you.</p><p>“Let’s say I’m curious,” he said at last to Yixing, hoping he wasn’t about to make a big mistake. “Tell me what you have in mind.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dun dun dunnnn. </p><p>There'll be a slight delay with my posting the next chapter since I need to write the stuff I actually get paid to write, but it'll be worth the wait. Jackson/Yibo stuff 😎</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for your patience! Back to the fun... Btw, there's such a thing as TOO much inspiration! Between SDC and this DDU episode with Song Weilong...good lord. I'll be writing more Song Weilong/Yibo later, in other words, so if you like that pairing (my first fic of them is Try and Try Again), be sure to subscribe to me, not just to this fic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He didn’t possess an invitation to the cocktail party, but attitude went a long way toward opening doors. If there was one thing of value that Jackson still owned, it was attitude. A host looked him over as soon as he emerged from the private elevator, but a smile and confident, sustained eye contact dissuaded the host from searching for Jackson’s name on the list he held. With a cheerful whistle, Jackson strolled past him and into the event. </p><p>The view of the Harbor Twin Towers beckoned through the floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse, but Jackson ignored the lights to snag himself a glass of soda water from the bar. From his position along a wall, he surveyed the two open rooms and its gathering of around fifty people. He knew many of them through business and social functions. He could tell from the numerous glances he received that word had finally gotten around the city about his ostracization. He drank from his glass with feigned calm as more than one knowing smirk drifted in his direction.</p><p>Agreeing to come hadn’t been easy. Yixing had been persuasive, more so because of his dimples and Jackson’s feelings for him than because Yixing had a way with words, which he didn’t. Jackson had given in to this plan despite his misgivings, and he tiptoed on the edge of regret now. There were too many ways to fail and even more ways to make a fool out of himself. He was very much tired of the latter.</p><p>The party wasn’t Wang Yibo’s, but it was being thrown by a friend of his so the model/racer was expected to make an appearance at some point. Jackson hoped it happened soon. He wasn’t immune to the stares and the murmurs. His nerves demanded that he leave and stop providing a target for the gossipers.</p><p>It didn’t escape him that the very reason he was here was to attract those same gossipers.</p><p><i>This could get ugly,</i> he thought while trying not to choke on his dread. He’d not only rejected Wang Yibo’s bizarre proposal, he’d insulted him. Yibo might take one look at Jackson and order him thrown out of the party. What would he do then? Move off the mainland and take an entry-level job? What if Wang Zheng had influence there, too? Cool sweat beaded at Jackson’s hairline.</p><p>It took over an hour of gritted teeth and discreet sweating beneath his suit before Wang Yibo finally arrived. Jackson learned of his arrival from the woman beside him who was chatting about nonsense with another woman. When Wang Yibo appeared, she had more nonsense to spew.</p><p>“Oh, my god,” the woman exclaimed. “What did he do to himself?”</p><p>She was obviously horrified by Wang Yibo’s appearance. Jackson was dismayed, too, but not for the same reason.</p><p>Wang Yibo’s hair, once a flattering reddish-brown color similar to Jackson’s, had been dyed a flat black. The stark color accentuated his pale skin tone, making him appear nearly bloodless. Not only was it darkened, his previously fluffy hair had been hacked. There was no other word for it. It looked like an angry gardener had taken pruning shears to it, chopping off not only the length, but cutting it in such a ragged fashion that the shaved sides met at a chunky ridgeline around the crown of Yibo’s head. The length was barely enough to form a jagged fringe at his temples. It was an ugly, unflattering haircut. </p><p>Yet somehow it didn’t matter.</p><p>Check that. It mattered, and not in a way that Jackson liked. Unbelievably, the cut and color highlighted Yibo’s smooth, boyish cheeks and the size of his eyes. He looked like he’d de-aged by five years. Yibo was twenty-three. Jackson did <i>not</i> need him looking younger.</p><p>“Shit,” Jackson mumbled, not even sure why, only that he knew that his job had become more difficult.</p><p>Like everyone, he couldn’t stop staring. In addition to his hair, Wang Yibo had transformed his wardrobe. Gone were the sexy, fashion-forward and often form-fitting clothes he always wore, replaced by baggy designer jeans that shortened his legs and an oversized plaid button-up over a T-shirt. He looked like a teenager who'd spent the afternoon skateboarding, not a model at an elegant and exclusive soiree in the skies of Shanghai. </p><p>What had happened in the week since Jackson had spoken to him?</p><p>Thoroughly curious, Jackson sipped his drink and bided his time. Wang Yibo didn’t make the rounds of the room as he expected of a socialite. Ignoring the shocked stares he received, Wang Yibo sought out a woman—presumably the person throwing this party—and spent a few minutes talking to her alone.</p><p>Afterward, he flopped casually into an upholstered chair in the corner of the room as though he were at home. His posture—legs crossed, chin on his hand—wasn’t welcoming, but people inevitably approached him. No one spoke to him for long, however, because Yibo gave them little in return. A few nods, a distracted half-smile of disinterest—he killed every attempt at conversation within a minute or two. Jackson wondered why he bothered sticking around. Except he thought he was beginning to form an understanding. </p><p>This was Wang Yibo’s Plan B.</p><p>Jackson had to give him props for persistence. It made it slightly easier to push off the wall and prepare to take his fate into his hands. However just as he took a step, an obstacle moved in front of him.</p><p>“Surprised to see you in public.”</p><p>As soon as he recognized the man, Jackson knew how the conversation would unfold.</p><p>“Word is, you’re done in Shanghai,” his former colleague said.</p><p>Jackson smiled thinly at him. “Hey, Xuang Geng. How’s it going?”</p><p>The man sneered. “Not so good for you, I hear.”</p><p>Xuang Geng had competed against Jackson for positions and promotions and lost out on every one of them until Jackson made the move to Wang Consolidated, the ultimate promotion.</p><p>“No one will touch you with a ten-foot pole now that you’ve betrayed Wang Zheng.”</p><p>Jackson sipped from his drink. “Since when is accepting a better job offer a betrayal?”</p><p>“Wang Zheng gave you the opportunity of a lifetime.”</p><p>“Apparently not, since I was willing to walk away from it.”</p><p>Xuang Geng nodded. He wore a smile that was no smile at all. “And now look where it’s gotten you. Why are you here, Jackson? Did you come to apologize? To beg his son for your job back? Maybe if you get on your knees and kiss his shoes, he might think about it.”</p><p>Jackson hid his fist behind his back. “You seem to be extremely concerned with my fate. Should I be flattered? Or am I under consideration for another promotion that you won’t get?”</p><p>Anger whipped across the man’s face before he got himself under control. “If you’re getting a promotion, it’s to junior secretary, Jackson. You’re nothing anymore, and I won’t lie: I’m enjoying your fall from grace.”</p><p>There were things Jackson considered saying, like pointing out that the other man’s only shot at success had to come at the downfall of those around him since he wasn’t talented enough on his own. But he feared that once he began with the insults he wouldn’t stop, and Jackson would end up shouting at him or worse. So a little creativity was necessary.</p><p>Jackson clapped Xuang Geng on the shoulder. “Amazing! You—you really did it! I can’t believe it!”</p><p>The other man sputtered. “W-what are you talking about?”</p><p>“The drama you’re auditioning for! I really think you’ve nailed it! I mean, the lines are super corny—” Jackson comically lowered his voice to mimic the other man, “—<i>‘Word is you’re done in Shanghai’</i>.”  Jackson bent over at the waist and laughed uproariously as the other man’s face turned purple. “I mean, who could say such a stupid line with a straight face? And then—” he ducked his chin against his chest, “—<i>‘I’m enjoying your fall from grace.’</i>  Ha-ha-ha! Who writes that shit? You’re so talented, bro! I can’t wait to watch you on TV.” </p><p>“I’m not going on TV!”</p><p>Jackson wiped the tears from his eyes before slapping the man’s shoulder. “Great talking with you, bro. You gave me a good laugh. Appreciate it.”</p><p>As the other man fumbled to say something, Jackson strode past him, knocking his shoulder into him as he passed. As he walked, his strides lengthened with determination. Xuang Geng was the first to mock him, but there would be others unless Jackson turned his ship around. The intent in his step caught the attention of those he passed and he could sense that he was collecting curious eyes as he crossed the room.</p><p>It was the onlookers’ attention that dragged Wang Yibo’s bored stare in Jackson’s direction. When he saw who was heading toward him, Wang Yibo’s eyes widened and he sat up straight. With his eyes rounded in confusion, he looked even younger and more innocent, and Jackson cursed beneath his breath. <i>Just do what you need to do. It’s self-preservation time, brother.</i></p><p>“Well, well, well. You took your time showing up,” Jackson said in a raised voice that cut through the drone of chatter around them, though not so loudly that it was obvious that he was vying for attention.</p><p>More eyes turned to them. Wang Yibo seemed to notice the stares and his brows drew together.</p><p>“I thought you were going for blue?” Jackson said before he boldly ran his fingers through Wang Yibo’s hair. The younger man froze, but Jackson pretended not to notice. Yibo’s hair was even shorter than he’d thought. He could feel the warmth of Yibo’s scalp against his fingertips. “This is pretty boring the way it is.”</p><p>Wang Yibo blinked a couple of times before finally finding his voice. “I thought about blue. I wasn’t sure.”</p><p>“That I’d like it?” Jackson scoffed and draped himself over the arm of the other man’s chair, one arm curling proprietarily along the top behind Wang Yibo’s head. “I told you I wanted to see you in it. Next time do what I tell you to.”</p><p>Jackson flashed a smirk because it just wasn’t in him to be the domineering asshole. If he was going to do this, he’d do it in a way he could live with himself. Possibly.</p><p>“O-okay,” Yibo said cautiously, drawing the word out. He’d stopped looking around at their audience and fixed his attention on Jackson. Suspicion shadowed his eyes.</p><p>Jackson pretended not to notice. With one arm braced along the chair, he brushed his knuckles down Wang Yibo’s cheek. It was smooth and rounded like an egg, and beneath Jackson’s touch it pinkened, probably from mortification but hopefully the watching eyes would read it as bashfulness. Wang Yibo had implied that he could pull off this charade. Jackson was counting on him proving it.</p><p>“I like the new look,” Jackson said for their audience. “You look like a teenage boy now. Super cute.”</p><p>Wang Yibo flashed dark eyes at him. Was that a hint of resentment, and if so, over which part?</p><p>Jackson turned his hand so he could cup Yibo’s pointed chin. His thumb curled naturally along the pillow of Yibo’s bottom lip. It was soft and slightly sticky with gloss. Jackson did his best not to imagine those pink lips stretched in a circle as he rubbed his thumb against them.</p><p>“I like it when you’re cute,” Jackson cooed.</p><p>Someone in the room giggled and was quickly shushed. The music playing over the sound system seemed to be the only other sound in the place. Everyone in attendance was absorbed by the performance Jackson was putting on with Yibo.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to kiss me with those cute lips of yours?” Jackson asked.</p><p>More than one person gasped. Though the gossip circles drooled over the possibility that Wang Yibo could be gay, no one had ever provided conclusive evidence. Most assumed the rumors were built on fangirl fantasies. Jackson would bet his lost salary that there were several phones aimed at him and Yibo right now, recording the first alleged proof that Wang Zheng’s famous son wasn’t completely straight.</p><p>It was a reminder to be careful. Powerful father or not, China wouldn’t look the other way when it came to certain things, video proof of shameless deviancy being one of them.</p><p>As if very much aware of that, Yibo sat stock still. His breath puffed quickly across Jackson’s thumb like that of a small, frightened animal.</p><p>“Later,” Jackson amended with a coy smile. He made a show of looking around them, as though he’d only just noticed that they were in public. “You can make it up to me in private.”</p><p>Yibo gaped up at him. Jackson stared at his mouth, at the hint of small, perfectly aligned teeth. When a tongue peeked out and swept across the tip of his thumb it was Jackson’s turn to gasp. Their eyes met. Yibo looked terrified.</p><p><i>At least he doesn’t look disgusted,</i> Jackson consoled himself, but deep down, he had to admit he’d been hoping for a different reaction. He’d allowed Yixing to get into his head and stroke his ego: <i>“I have every confidence you can make it work. You’re you, after all.”</i></p><p>But being him didn’t appear to be doing much for Wang Yibo.</p><p><i>I just need time,</i> Jackson told himself. <i>Don’t panic.</i></p><p>Keeping his outward cool, he waved a cocktail server over. Jackson released Yibo’s chin to clasp his bony shoulder and squeeze. “What are you drinking this time, babe?”</p><p>It was a test. Either Yibo played along or this game was over.</p><p>“Screwdriver,” Yibo said after a long, tense moment—certainly far tenser than a decision about drinks should be.</p><p>Jackson smiled amiably at the server. “Make it a double. I’m trying to get him drunk.”</p><p>The server, looking stunned, mumbled something before hurrying away.</p><p>Jackson sipped his own drink with a calm he didn’t feel as he casually look around. People who’d been staring at them hastily looked away, but despite their efforts to act disinterested, it was obvious that he and Wang Yibo were the main attraction to them. All the gossip coming out of tonight’s party would orbit them. It was up to Jackson to dictate what the nature of that gossip would be.</p><p>He said nothing more to Yibo, simply massaged his shoulder as though it were something he did all the time, until the server returned with the drink and handed it to Wang Yibo, who quickly downed half of it.</p><p>Wang Yibo stiffened further when Jackson leaned over him and caged him in with his arms and body. Into Yibo’s reddened ear he whispered, “I thought you were a cool guy, Wang Yibo. You don’t look very cool right now.”</p><p>“I thought you’d rejected this plan,” Wang Yibo retorted in a strained voice. “I wasn’t prepared for you to come in like this and…” He trailed off.</p><p>“And what?” Jackson brushed the tip of his nose along Yibo’s cheek. Heat radiated off it and it made him smile, performance or not. “Showing everyone that you’re mine? That’s what you asked me to do, isn’t it?” He blew across Yibo’s ear. “Be your lover. Take control of you. Make sure everyone knows that you answer only to me…”</p><p>Yibo turned his face away while his chest rose and fell quickly beneath his multiple shirts. Jackson kept the cocky smirk on his face through sheer force of will. Coming on to someone who didn’t return the interest was a real dick shrinker.</p><p><i>This isn’t going to work,</i> he thought with frustration and growing panic. <i>Yixing was wrong. This whole plan is crap.</i></p><p>Looking away from Yibo, his eyes met one of the female partygoers. When their gazes locked, she blushed and quickly raised a hand to hide her face. The man beside her, maybe a boyfriend, looked from her to Jackson before scowling at him.</p><p>Jackson huffed a quiet laugh. He hadn’t lost his touch with some people, at least. Bolstered by the woman’s reaction, he tapped Yibo’s half-empty glass.</p><p>“Finish this. You need to loosen up if we’re going to have that fun later on that I promised you.”</p><p>He imagined the sound clip of his words racing across the internet later and had to suppress a laugh of glee. Yixing might be wrong about Wang Zheng having that heart attack. Not that Jackson wanted the man to die, but some nasty indigestion or an ulcer would be well-deserved.</p><p>“Do you know what you’re doing?”</p><p>He looked down at Yibo, surprised by the hissed question. “Do you? This was your idea.”</p><p>Yibo plucked at the artfully frayed threads on his designer jeans. “You have to commit to this. It won’t work if you chicken out later.”</p><p>Jackson stared at him in disbelief. “<i>I</i> chicken out? <i>I</i> chicken out? What about you?” To prove his point, he caught Yibo by the chin again, this time lifting his face up. No straight man would have submitted to such handling, especially in public. “You’re letting me do this,” Jackson whispered, “but I can feel you trembling. You’ve got to do better than this to convince these people that you bend over for me.”</p><p>Wang Yibo’s eyes really were like giant coins, Jackson thought. They could go perfectly round when he was shocked or amazed, like now.</p><p>Jackson leaned over him, bringing them nose to nose. Yibo’s breath carried the scent of oranges. </p><p>“So yeah,” Jackson whispered, “I’m committed to this and I’m not chickening out. The ball is in your court. Are you capable of playing with me?”</p><p>Yibo’s long fingers curled around Jackson’s wrist. Yibo’s palm was broad and masculine, but his grip was unsure.</p><p>“I’m playing,” Yibo bit out, his voice shaky. “I need this to happen.”</p><p>Jackson smiled. “Oh, how I wish you meant that in a different way.”</p><p>More round eyes. Jackson decided he’d done enough for tonight. He released Yibo’s face and gently shook off his grip. “Make room in your place for me,” he said before standing up. </p><p>Yibo sucked in a breath. “What do you—”</p><p>Jackson cut him off to say aloud, “I changed my mind, babe. I’ll catch up with you later. Be ready for me.” He winked.</p><p>The innuendo swept through the place like a wildfire. Jackson fought to keep his expression cool as he strode out of the penthouse, but he was conscious of trailing shock, disgust, and intrigue. </p><p>“This better work,” he muttered to himself as he rode the elevator down, alone. “Or else I’ve just sabotaged my last shot at finding work in China.”</p><p>By the time he reached the garage level, he was feeling a little sick, in fact. Why had he followed Yixing’s advice and made the first move in public? Why couldn’t he have confronted Yibo in private to get the ball rolling?</p><p>But would the ball even roll? Yibo’s heterosexuality had been on full display tonight. Unless Jackson turned into an award-winning actor, this charade would be over within hours and he’d be not only unemployed but a laughingstock. He cringed as he headed to his car, already imagining the stories that would arise about how desperate he must have been to attempt something like this. God, if the rumors reached his parents…</p><p>He didn’t notice the rushed footfalls until they were nearly upon him. He spun and nimbly darted to the side. His attacker skidded to a halt just in time for Jackson to thrust a forearm across his throat and shove him against the nearest concrete pillar.</p><p>“You!” Jackson gasped.</p><p>“Let go of me!” Wang Yibo demanded as he yanked at Jackson’s restraining arm.</p><p>Jackson kept up the pressure. He didn’t trust this kid. “Why are you following me?”</p><p>Yibo quit pulling on his arm. “I want to know what the hell you were thinking? You told me no and then you just show up and blindside me like that? How did you expect me to react?”</p><p>“Better than you did!” Jackson burst out in annoyance. “You acted like a friggin’ virgin up there. Who’s ever going to believe that we’re sleeping together? Wang Zheng will sniff this out from a mile away.”</p><p>The prominent knob of Wang Yibo’s Adam’s apple bobbed beneath Jackson’s forearm. “Then you meant it. You’re doing this with me. The Plan.”</p><p>“Only if you keep your word.”</p><p>“I will! You’ll be rich after this.”</p><p>“And only if I believe this can work,” Jackson added. He was ticked off because he was embarrassed by the scene upstairs, and he was annoyed that Yibo hadn’t responded to him. Jackson was very aware of how attractive he was. The occasional one-night stands he took home when Yixing wouldn’t answer his calls told him how sensual and exciting he was as a lover. Jackson had no doubts about own appeal.</p><p>But this childish creature had made him doubt himself upstairs and worse, Yibo hadn’t even done it intentionally. That meant it hadn’t been faked. <i>How am I supposed to pretend to be in love with him if he can’t stand to be touched by me?</i></p><p>The question was ridiculous, but Jackson had committed to this and Yibo claimed he would, too.</p><p>“This will work,” Yibo insisted, as if reading his mind.</p><p>Jackson dropped his gaze to his mouth. “Prove it.”</p><p>He didn’t pause to consider why, or whether it was a good idea. The move was purely ego-driven. Jackson kissed him.</p><p>Wang Yibo’s lips fulfilled the promise they presented. They were softer than soft. They were sinfully soft, like kissing overripe strawberries. But that lasted only for a couple of seconds before Yibo tensed up his lips along with the rest of him.</p><p><i>Come on,</i> Jackson thought, aggravated. Without opening his eyes, he shoved his body up against Yibo’s to pin him to the pillar from knee to shoulder. Jackson didn’t have a plan, he was going on instinct.</p><p>Instinct told him to grind.</p><p>He commanded the dance floor on those chances he had access to it. He was always the sexiest dancer in the place. He channeled that energy now. Yibo had naturally spread his feet to balance himself when Jackson first shoved him. It allowed Jackson to press up into the V of his legs and put them groin to groin.</p><p>“Come on,” Jackson groaned against Yibo’s pinched lips. “Work with me!”</p><p>Yibo pushed at his shoulder but Jackson just grabbed that hand and slammed it to the concrete beside his head. “Come on!” he snarled and thrust up firmly against Yibo. “This won’t work unless—”</p><p>Yibo moaned.</p><p>It was soft, barely a moan, technically. More like a deep sigh. But it was definitely a sound that Jackson had heard before from someone he was trying to sex up.</p><p>“There,” he said in a low voice, giving up on the kiss and dragging his mouth across Yibo’s flushed cheek to his ear. “Give me more of that. Make it sound real. Make them believe it.”</p><p>Yibo turned his face away, eyes clenched shut, but that only gave Jackson room to brush his lips across his cheek and jawline. Yibo possessed a stunning jawline. Jackson closed his teeth lightly around the bone, just because it was there and he could. Yibo’s breath came out in a long, shuddery ripple.</p><p><i>That was real,</i> Jackson thought, staring at his profile in shock. <i>That wasn’t disgust. That was…</i></p><p>He moved his hips, not thrusting, just a grind and hold. Grind and hold. Like he was pushing in deep and pausing to let Yibo get used to his size. The visual that came with that made Jackson groan and rest his forehead against Yibo’s temple.</p><p>“Make it real,” he heard himself whisper. Yibo shuddered. Jackson’s dick pulsed. “You can do it. Don’t think about it. Just feel it.”</p><p>He was getting hard. They both were. Jackson breathed heavily against Yibo’s cheek as he pushed their erections together, increasing the friction. Yibo spread his legs wider, inviting Jackson to sink deeper against him. Panting, Jackson lowered his arm from Yibo’s collarbone—</p><p>—and found himself shoved backward three feet and nearly tripping on his own heels.</p><p>“Enough,” Wang Yibo ordered, his voice deep and rough. He smeared the back of his hand across his cheek where Jackson’s lips had been. He glared at Jackson from over his hand. “There’s no one here to see. This isn’t part of the plan.”</p><p>Jackson blinked rapidly. The blood still hummed in his veins. “Yeah, I’m—sorry. I got carried away.”</p><p>“Save it.” Wang Yibo turned away, back the way he’d come. “We’ll meet tomorrow and formalize this.”</p><p>Jackson frowned. “Formalize what?”</p><p>“The contract.”</p><p>It was cold water thrown in his face, or make that his crotch. His hard-on died a quick death at the reminder that this whole thing was only a performance with a payout.</p><p>“Don’t call me. I’ll call you,” Wang Yibo muttered before he stalked away in the direction of the elevators without a backward glance.</p><p>“And goodnight to you, too!” Jackson called after him. “Was a lovely evening!”</p><p>He rubbed both hands over his face, unable to believe how dumb he’d been just then. “Either he’s playing me,” he said to himself, “or this is going to be crazier than I thought.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Added Breathplay to the tags. You know, just because 😏</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yibo came awake the instant he heard the disarm notification for the front door lock. He sat up quickly in bed and stared into the hallway that led to the door of his condominium. The moment he heard the familiar footsteps, he dove for the nightstand where his phone lay charging.</p>
<p><b>Come now!</b> he managed to type before a body filled the doorway.</p>
<p>“Get up.”</p>
<p>Yibo pulled the blanket up to his neck. “What are you doing in my apartment? Who told you the alarm code?”</p>
<p>The bearded man in the doorway shook his head slowly, as though he pitied Yibo. But Yibo doubted that Lao Feng had ever felt pity in his life. The man held the title of Wang Zheng’s personal assistant, but it was only a cover. Lao Feng was his father’s bodyguard and enforcer.  Yibo had once made the news for appearing in public with his arm in a sling after an injury sustained during a skateboarding accident. But it hadn’t been an accident. It had been Lao Feng.</p>
<p>“I have the code for your door,” Lao Feng told him. “I have the keys to your cars and for your motorcycles, including the ones in storage. You possess nothing that I can’t get to, Yibo-didi, and that counts for you, too.” The large man’s expression hardened. “I said get out of that bed.”</p>
<p>“You’re trespassing.” Yibo mentally kicked himself for not buying the Taser he’d researched online after his shoulder dislocation. Why had he believed the incident had been a one-off? Lao Feng had never shied from violence toward anyone, least of all toward Yibo. Especially Yibo, since that violence was directed by his father. “I’ll call building security and the police,” he warned.</p>
<p>“Go ahead,” Lao Feng said, calling his bluff. He stepped inside the room without bothering to check if anyone else was inside. It wouldn’t have mattered to him if there were witnesses to his actions. Wang Zheng’s money would keep them silent and if it didn’t, Lao Feng would silence them himself. “Call anyone you like. When are you going to learn that the only one with the power to help you is your father?”</p>
<p>“He’s also the only one I’d never turn to for help,” Yibo retorted. “You and he know this. Why don’t you leave me alone?”</p>
<p>“He saw a photo of you from last night,” Lao Weng said, ignoring the question as he stepped up to the side of the bed. He towered over it ominously. “He said you’d better grow out your hair and get your act together. You look like a joke and you’re only humiliating yourself with your childish antics.” </p>
<p>Yibo didn't care about the insults. He was more interested in the fact that Wang Zheng hadn’t heard the rumors about him and Jackson Wang, yet. Though Yibo was prepared for them to begin circulating, he was relieved, at the moment, that they hadn’t hit his father’s ears. Not until he got a hold of that Taser or something better.</p>
<p>“I’ll think about it,” he said. “Now get out of my home.”</p>
<p>He managed to fling his forearm up in time to block the backhand slap, but with his arm raised he left his ribcage exposed. He grunted and curled to the side as Lao Weng’s fist drove into his ribs. </p>
<p>“Get up.”</p>
<p>The fist pummeled him again, harder. Yibo hissed. Nothing cracked, but the pain from the strike radiated throughout his entire right side.</p>
<p>“Get out of that bed,” Lao Feng ordered. “We’re going to take care of your wardrobe.”</p>
<p>“Wait in the living room,” Yibo gasped against the blanket where he’d fallen. “If you continue to hit me I’ll never get out of bed.”</p>
<p>“That’s where you’re wrong.”</p>
<p>The blanket he was lying on was yanked out from under him. He immediately drew his legs up and curled his arms around them. The only thing he wore was a pair of boxer briefs. The mattress sank beside him as Lao Feng placed a knee on it. Yibo shut his eyes, tensed for the worst.</p>
<p>
  <i>Bang!</i>
</p>
<p>Lao Feng jumped off Yibo’s bed as the front door slammed against the wall. Yibo’s bodyguards—Yanyan and Lele—rushed inside.</p>
<p>“Get away from him!” Yanyan barked. Behind his left shoulder, Lele held something hard and vaguely tubular in his jacket pocket. Yibo wasn’t the only one who stared at it.</p>
<p>Lao Weng straightened the cuffs of his suit coat. “I was about to offer him breakfast in bed. Turns out he’s a picky eater.”</p>
<p>“Get out,” Yanyan repeated in a low growl.</p>
<p>Lao Feng smirked. “One of these days, Wang Zheng will let me take care of you two. I’m looking forward to that day with every ounce of my being.”</p>
<p>“Quit stalling,” Lele warned. The object in his pocket poked harder against the fabric.</p>
<p>As Lao Feng passed him on the way to the front door, he said to Lele, “That better be what you’re pretending it is, because you’re going to need it when I finally come after you.”</p>
<p>He shut the door behind him with exaggerated care.</p>
<p>“Asshole,” Yibo muttered as he sat up. He winced and massaged his side. “Thanks for getting here so quickly.”</p>
<p>“We took too long,” Yanyan argued. He frowned as Yibo massaged his ribs. “Why did you let him in before calling us?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t. He knew the code. How could he know it?”</p>
<p>“Your father,” Lele said quietly. He pulled the LEGO firefighter figure out of his pocket and tossed it to Yibo, who caught it with a smile. “Don’t underestimate what kind of information he can get.”</p>
<p>“You should have showed this to Lao Feng,” Yibo said as he posed the toy on his knee. “I’m sure he would have gotten a good laugh out of it.”</p>
<p>“The concerning part is that he believes we’d carry guns,” Yanyan pointed out. “That tells me <i>he’s</i> comfortable carrying guns.”</p>
<p>“My father wouldn’t kill me.”</p>
<p>Yanyan and Lele exchanged a look that Yibo didn’t appreciate.</p>
<p>“I guess that means you guys are braver than I give you credit for,” Yibo said, trying to inject some levity into the moment. He slid out of bed. “You know he rarely comes back. You can go now. Thank you for being so fast.”</p>
<p>“We’ll pick up a new alarm system,” Yanyan said before walking over to inspect the keycode beside the front door. “We’ll install it today.”</p>
<p>Yibo absently rubbed his side. “You need to know something. I’m going to have a—guest from now on.”</p>
<p>Lele looked confused. “A guest?” Yibo never invited anyone into his home.</p>
<p>“A roommate, you could say. Actually, he’s more than that, or so he’ll seem.”</p>
<p>He’d thoroughly confounded his bodyguards, which was a rare event. They accompanied him nearly everywhere and knew just about all the secrets of his life. Just about.</p>
<p>“I’ve got a boyfriend now,” Yibo told them, cringing inside at how dumb that sounded, how utterly childish. It sounded unbelievable. That was the biggest problem of all, wasn’t it? Believability.</p>
<p>Yanyan cleared his throat. “A boyfriend.”</p>
<p>“It’s no one you know,” Yibo said. “I’ve kept him a secret.”</p>
<p>The bodyguard held Yibo’s gaze for a long searching moment. Yibo forced himself not to look away from the questions and skepticism in the other man’s eyes.</p>
<p>“It’s a good secret,” Yanyan said at last.</p>
<p>Yibo chewed on his thumbnail. “He’s not from my life. He’s from my father’s.”</p>
<p>“Who?” Yanyan pressed.</p>
<p>Yibo smiled faintly, bitterly amused by his own game. “Jackson Wang.”</p>
<p>Yanyan and Lele both gaped at him.</p>
<p>“Yibo, he worked for your father,” Lele pointed out.</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s right.” Yibo shrugged. “I guess you would know him.”</p>
<p>“Wang Zheng has put out the word on him.”</p>
<p>Yibo glanced at Yanyan. “I know. That’s why he’s now my boyfriend.”</p>
<p>Yanyan was ‘only’ a bodyguard, but he’d been with Yibo since he was a young teenager. He had more leeway than his position normally granted, enough to offer unsolicited advice. “You’re playing with fire, Yibo.”</p>
<p>“He’s stoking the fire bigger,” Lele muttered with a sigh.</p>
<p>“I’m not letting him continue to bully me,” Yibo retorted. He pointed at the alarm interface. “If I don’t do something, he’ll take over my life. Tell me I’m wrong.”</p>
<p>A few seconds passed before Yanyan rubbed his head and sighed. “This is dangerous.”</p>
<p>“That’s why I have you guys.”</p>
<p>Lele raised and eyebrow at Yanyan. “He has a point.”</p>
<p>Yibo relaxed, but only a little. “Just trust that I know what I’m doing. It’s all going to work out in the end.”</p>
<p>~~~~~</p>
<p>He didn’t know when Jackson would arrive, or if the other man had been speaking the truth when he’d implied he’d be coming over. Yibo prayed Jackson didn’t lose his nerve and back out. Yibo shouldn’t be in a position to beg anyone, but in this case he was. He would have to be careful and never reveal to Jackson how much he needed him.</p>
<p>The sun was warm on his chest as he lay on his veranda. He wouldn’t get tan, but being outside relaxed him while he waited. Beside him on a side table, his phone rattled against the glass. It had been vibrating continuously since he’d left the party last night. He could always turn off notifications, but he was curious how much buzz—literally and figuratively—had been created by Jackson’s performance. Judging by the rattle and jump of his phone, it was a lot.</p>
<p>Everything would change from here on out, or else nothing would. This was Yibo’s big play. If his father didn’t disinherit him after this, he never would. In that case, Yibo would be trapped in a future he didn’t want. Running away would not be an option. As Jackson’s situation proved, Yibo’s father could reach as far as he needed to ensure that his will was carried out.</p>
<p>A shiver of despair worked its way through him. He had dreams. They didn’t intersect with Wang Consolidated. Everything that made him happy, everything that gave him a reason to live, had nothing to do with his father’s business or Wang Zheng the man. If Yibo had to end his racing career prematurely, if he was forced into an industry he had zero interest in, he was sure that he would die inside. </p>
<p>He was aware that many people considered him spoiled for having such a view. He stood to inherit billions upon billions. But such numbers meant nothing to him when he was already a billionaire. The majority of his money had come from the trust fund that had been released into his possession when he’d turned twenty-one. The remainder came from endorsements. He didn’t need any more money and steadily donated large sums to charity and built schools in disadvantaged villages, but everyone assumed he should want the fortune that came with becoming executive chairman. He didn’t. He wanted freedom. He would sacrifice his fortune for that freedom. Giving a hefty chunk to Jackson Wang was the least he would do.</p>
<p>He threw an arm over his eyes as he thought about his father’s ex-employee. Actually, ex-protégé was a more accurate description because even if Wang Zheng never came out and said it, Yibo understood enough about his father to know that he viewed Jackson differently. Wang Zheng thought he’d seen himself in Jackson. In an alternate universe, Wang Zheng would have handed the business over to him. But in this universe, Jackson had committed the sin of disloyalty and so he must pay. Having paid that price in the past, Yibo sympathized with the other man. What Yibo offered him with his last-ditch plan was Jackson’s only chance for redemption within China’s borders. Wang Zheng would never relent.</p>
<p>“Too bad I couldn’t hire him myself,” Yibo murmured aloud.</p>
<p>He could, of course. He could form a business tomorrow and put Jackson as president or CEO—whatever he wanted. But if he did that, he’d lose his only leverage. Besides, Yibo doubted the other man would appreciate the charity. Jackson wanted to make his own way, just as he’d been doing up until Yibo’s father sabotaged him.</p>
<p><i>Just be careful,</i> Yibo warned himself. <i>Jackson hates Wang Zheng and that hate could transfer to you, if it hasn’t already.</i></p>
<p>For at least the tenth time, he replayed their interactions last night. Unease moved through him, bringing goosebumps to his skin despite the warm air. Jackson’s handling of him last night had caught him off-guard. Yibo liked to set a plan and follow it come hell or high water. He could adapt, but he preferred to drive fast and hard to his destination. Steadiness was his strength. Determination. Jackson had jumped back into Yibo’s life like a nail in the road, flipping everything on its head.</p>
<p>He idly touched his chin where Jackson had held it. He closed his eyes and imagined again the other man’s thumb brushing across his lips. He could imagine more: a hand cupping his cheek and tilting his face up. A soft whisper of breath across his mouth, teasing him, withholding the reward of a kiss.</p>
<p>But the fantasy brought with it a rush of unwelcome feelings and confusing thoughts, so he snapped his eyes open to remind himself of reality. Jackson was going to pretend to be his boyfriend. Yibo had better get used to it, and he’d better do it quickly. There couldn’t be a repeat of last night’s panicked reactions or else this whole thing was over.</p>
<p>The chime of his doorbell sent his pulse soaring.</p>
<p><i>So much for handling this confidently,</i> he thought with frustration.</p>
<p>He pulled on his shirt and let himself back inside his condo, shivering slightly at the cooler temperature. At the door, he looked through the peephole, prepared for it to be another of his father’s goons. It wasn’t.</p>
<p>“So you came,” Yibo said as he opened the door.</p>
<p>Jackson walked in without being invited. He was dressed casually in jeans, a light-colored shirt, and a saddle-brown leather jacket. The sunlight coming in from the balcony doors painted his high cheekbones and touched on his raspberry-hued lips. He was a very good-looking man. Yibo wished he wasn’t inside his home.</p>
<p>“I brought some stuff,” Jackson said absently as he looked around Yibo’s main room. The ‘stuff’ apparently was in the rollaway suitcase he dragged behind him.</p>
<p>Yibo stared at the case. “You’re moving in?”</p>
<p>“No, but we need to present the appearance that I stay overnight regularly. So I brought some changes of clothing. That way when the paparazzi photograph me, it looks like I spent the night pounding you into the mattress.” He smirked at that, as though his own comment amused him.</p>
<p>“Graphic,” Yibo muttered.</p>
<p>“Is it?” Jackson rested the suitcase and turned to him. “A lovey-dovey, vanilla romance isn’t going to disgust your father. You said that. Did you forget or did you lose your nerve?”</p>
<p>Jackson was goading him for whatever reason, but Yibo wasn’t going to allow the bullying.</p>
<p>“Just like last night, you seem to have a problem understanding the difference between public and private. You and I are nothing in here. It’s only out there, where people—and most importantly my father—can see and hear it, that we’re a couple. This isn’t real, Jackson. You and I are not a thing.”</p>
<p>The skin twitched beneath Jackson’s left eye. “You made that pretty clear, yeah. We need to work on that,” he added breezily before dragging his suitcase down the hallway. “Bedroom’s in here?”</p>
<p>“Wait—”</p>
<p>Yibo darted after him but Jackson walked in without pause.</p>
<p>“Get out,” Yibo ordered as Jackson kicked his suitcase to roll into a corner. “We need to talk, first.”</p>
<p>Jackson extended his arms to either side, turned to face Yibo, and then fell straight back onto Yibo’s bed.</p>
<p>“Go ahead,” Jackson said, folding his arms behind his head. “I’m listening.”</p>
<p>“Not on my bed, you’re not.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you don’t like me here? Guess you’d better push me off.”</p>
<p>Yibo stared at him, knowing what the other man was angling for. A wrestling match, maybe. Some kind of physical contact, anyway, that wasn’t necessary. Jackson clearly intended to ignore everything Yibo had told him about behaving differently depending on who could see them.</p>
<p>Yibo took a second to question why. Jackson wasn’t interested in him. Not really. They were two strangers, and Yibo had told him he wasn’t gay. So then was this a sneaky attempt to humiliate him to indirectly strike at his father?</p>
<p><i>You can never let down your guard with him,</i> Yibo reminded himself.</p>
<p>“If you want to talk about the contract, I’ll be in the living room,” he said, and turned and walked out.</p>
<p>He sat in the middle of his sofa so Jackson wouldn’t be able to trap him against one of the arms. Jackson apparently was in no hurry to decide whether Yibo was coming back. Five minutes passed. Yibo was annoyed by the time the other man finally emerged from his bedroom.</p>
<p>“Okay, so where’s the contract?” Jackson asked as he looked to the empty coffee table in front of Yibo.</p>
<p>“It’s only been half a day. I haven’t had time for my lawyers to draw one up.”</p>
<p>“This was your plan,” Jackson reminded him. “You were anticipating my saying yes when you approached me that night at the bar. Don’t play me for a fool. You <i>do</i> have a contract.”</p>
<p>“It needs to be modified,” Yibo muttered. He crossed his arms and legs and stared out the balcony windows.</p>
<p>Jackson snorted. “If we’re going to be partners in this thing—if we’re going to trust each other not screw the other over—we need to be honest with each other.”</p>
<p>He was right, but Yibo had issues to contend with. “The original contract had provisions for you to back out with partial payment. I can’t allow that. The situation with my father is escalating.”</p>
<p>“That’s not a smart thing to say when you’re negotiating with me.”</p>
<p>Yibo eyed him. “You wanted me to be honest. I’m being honest.”</p>
<p>Jackson nodded, something like respect sliding over his face. “Fair enough. So now it’s all or nothing, huh?”</p>
<p>“I’ll fund any venture you present to me assuming it doesn’t conflict with my interests. In return, you’ll perform however is necessary to drive my father to disinherit me. You get nothing until we achieve that. It sounds harsh, but I don’t like to drag things out. It is what it is.”</p>
<p>“And what are you in all this?”</p>
<p>Yibo gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“I’ll be ‘performing however is necessary’ to freak out your father,” Jackson said, forming air quotes with his fingers, “but what’ll you be doing?”</p>
<p>Yibo didn’t understand the question. Jackson sighed loudly, seeming to realize that.</p>
<p>“Will you be playing the victim?”</p>
<p>“The what?”</p>
<p>Jackson’s smirk didn’t bode well. Yibo watched warily as the other man approached the sofa, except instead of sitting on it, Jackson went around behind it, and behind Yibo. Yibo gripped his arms tightly and stared firmly at the windows, refusing to be intimidated.</p>
<p>“The victim,” Jackson said softly. “The blushing virgin whom I ravish for the sake of everyone watching.” He chuckled. “Sounds kind of hot, actually.”</p>
<p>“I told you I could do this,” Yibo gritted out. “And I’m not a virgin.”</p>
<p>“Ah, okay. I was wondering about that since the way you reacted made me think you are.”</p>
<p>“I don’t normally let guys touch me. Is that such a surprise?” Yibo tried to glare at him from over his shoulder but Jackson was directly behind him.</p>
<p>“And that’s going to be a problem. Unless…”</p>
<p>Yibo tried to act cool. “Unless what?”</p>
<p>He gasped when Jackson’s hand slid beneath his chin from behind to cup it. “Unless we get you acclimated to a man’s touch.”</p>
<p>Yibo’s first instinct wasn’t to fling him off but to freeze. The strong fingers beneath his jawline brought back powerful memories that he tried to reject, but they filled him anyway. He’d been through a lot in his short life. He was proud to say that nothing he’d endured had left him feeling weak. Until lately. This shivery feeling that rippled through his body was a recent development. He could trace it to a source, but he didn’t want to.</p>
<p>He heard Jackson murmur, “Hmm.”</p>
<p>Yibo tried to shake free but found Jackson’s grip firm. “What does that mean?”</p>
<p>“Nothing,” Jackson said. He stood against the back of the sofa now. Yibo could feel the placket of his jeans pressing between his shoulder blades. If Yibo were to turn around—</p>
<p>“What happens when I kiss you in public?” Jackson asked as he tilted Yibo’s chin up, forcing his head back until their eyes could meet. “Are you going to stiffen up? Punch me in the stomach?”</p>
<p>Even while his vision was inverted, Yibo’s gaze still slid to Jackson’s rich lips. They’d been soft when they’d kissed him. Warm. “I’m a better actor than you know,” he said quietly.</p>
<p>For several seconds, Jackson only studied him. At last he smirked and released Yibo. “Let’s see.”</p>
<p>He came around the end of the sofa and dropped onto the same cushion that Yibo sat on, bringing them hip to hip. Jackson patted Yibo’s thigh and said, “Turn to face me and let’s have a little chat.”</p>
<p>Yibo obeyed and shifted, putting them knee-to-knee. He sat cross-legged while Jackson kept one foot on the floor.</p>
<p>“If we’re going to do this, we need to talk about how far is too far,” Jackson began, “because your little plan here calls for me to be bossy and aggressive. Right? That’s a key element of this—that I make Wang Zheng angry because I’m the one calling the shots in the bedroom with you.”</p>
<p>Yibo wished his own Adam’s apple wasn’t so prominent. When he swallowed nervously, Jackson’s gaze zoomed in on his throat.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Yibo said, working for cool. “Let’s talk about it. I’m fine with you kissing me.”</p>
<p>“With tongue?”</p>
<p>Yibo didn’t miss a beat. “Yes. Just don’t make it sloppy. I have standards.”</p>
<p>Jackson grinned. “Where am I not allowed to touch you?”</p>
<p>This time Yibo’s answer didn’t come as readily.</p>
<p>“We’re not—having sex,” he finally managed. He hoped the heat in his face was from a sunburn he’d gained on the veranda.</p>
<p>“No one said anything about sex.” Jackson began taking off his leather jacket.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?”</p>
<p>“Getting comfortable. That’s what we’re doing, Yibo. Getting comfortable with each other so we have at least a one percent chance of pulling off this charade.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need to take off your—”</p>
<p>“May I touch your ass?”</p>
<p>Yibo gaped at him. “What?”</p>
<p>Jackson rolled his head on his neck. “Pat your ass. Maybe squeeze it. Those are things boyfriends would do to each other. Granted, I personally wouldn’t do them in public, but we’re going for shameless.” Jackson stopped rolling his head to stare at Yibo intently. “I’m going to be shameless with you. May I?”</p>
<p>Yibo hoped he was still only referring to the ass touching. “Fine. You can do that.”</p>
<p>“You won’t jump or flinch away?”</p>
<p>“How can I guarantee that? If I’m not expecting—”</p>
<p>Jackson surged forward, crushing Yibo backward onto the sofa. Yibo didn’t even have time to raise his hands to push him away before his shoulders were pressed to the cushion by the other man’s weight. When he did manage to wrench his hands out from between them, Jackson caught his wrists and pinned them beside Yibo’s head.</p>
<p>“Calm down,” Jackson said as Yibo began to struggle.</p>
<p>Yibo glared but stopped trying to roll them off the sofa. “Get off.”</p>
<p>“I won’t do anything I wouldn’t do in public to fool your father.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need to do them here,” Yibo snapped.</p>
<p>Jackson leaned down to his mouth but Yibo quickly turned his head.</p>
<p>“Don’t I?” Jackson asked softly, his breath tickling Yibo’s cheek. “Your instinct is to lean away, to turn away, to push me away. This isn’t going to work. Not at all.”</p>
<p>He released Yibo’s wrists and began to sit up. Yibo thought of the dark. He thought of empty photo frames and pitying looks. He thought of his father patting him on the shoulder for following in his footsteps.</p>
<p>“Wait.”</p>
<p>Jackson stilled. His large, dark eyes moved over Yibo’s face.</p>
<p>“We’ll do this,” Yibo said slowly. He kept his hands on the cushion where Jackson had pinned them. “You’re right. I need to get used to you.”</p>
<p>“Not just to me, but to this. You need to accept a man’s touch if you’re going to play gay.”</p>
<p>A secret pain shot through him. “Right. That’s what I meant.”</p>
<p>Moving incrementally, obviously waiting for Yibo to call a stop to this, Jackson resumed his position lying atop him. They were chest to chest and hip to hip, though Yibo’s cross-legged position prevented their groins from touching. A blessing for now, and a small one, for Jackson dominated Yibo’s senses everywhere else. The man’s cologne—musky and woody—filled his lungs. The clean prettiness of Jackson’s features were close enough that Yibo could count his eyelashes if he wanted to.</p>
<p>“Tell me where you don’t want me to touch you,” Jackson murmured. He lowered his head to the side of Yibo’s throat. Against his skin, he said, “You’re allowed to have boundaries. Tell me what yours are.”</p>
<p>“Don’t touch me between the legs,” Yibo said at once.</p>
<p>“With my hand? What about my leg or my hip? Can I rub on you?” Jackson kissed his throat. “A little grinding will help sell the fantasy.”</p>
<p>Yibo squeezed his eyes shut as each question brought up a visual. “No hands. And the rest—only if it’s…necessary.”</p>
<p>“I’m here to fulfill a contract, Wang Yibo. This wasn’t my idea and I’m not getting a thrill out of this, trust me.”</p>
<p>Right. It was Yibo’s idea, and there were probably other plans he could have come up with but in the heat of the moment he’d decided that only this one would work. He had to question his sanity and predilection for torturing himself.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” he forced himself to say as he stared up at the ceiling. “This isn’t easy.”</p>
<p>Yibo held still as a palm slid down his side to his hip and up again, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Jackson turned his hand and dragged his knuckles in a slow circle across Yibo’s abdomen.</p>
<p>“You’re doing well,” Jackson said softly. The little bit of praise allowed Yibo to unwind a notch. “By the way, why did you cut your hair and change your clothes?”</p>
<p>Yibo laughed a bit grimly. “My father hates street culture. Dancing, skateboarding, music—he hates all of it.”</p>
<p>“Enough to disinherit you?” Jackson found the pulse at the base of his throat and kissed it.</p>
<p>Yibo fought down a shiver. He fought against the urge to cup the back of Jackson’s head. He fought to keep his hips still against a growing need to roll them. Everything was a fight.</p>
<p>“Probably not,” he admitted, “but I was willing to try anything.”</p>
<p>“Touch me, Yibo.” Jackson’s breath curled beneath his chin. “If we’re sleeping together, you should be comfortable with my body, too.”</p>
<p><i>If we’re sleeping together.</i> Yibo flinched at the words but he had no choice but to face them and the situation he’d created for himself. He lowered his hands but kept them hovering above Jackson’s back.</p>
<p>Teeth nipped his neck. “I said touch me.”</p>
<p>The faint authority in Jackson’s order overrode Yibo’s hesitation. He settled his hands on Jackson’s back. His palms curved over heat and solid muscle.</p>
<p>Yibo hissed when fingernails dragged across his belly, igniting nerve-endings all throughout his groin. </p>
<p>“<i>Touch me</i>,” Jackson repeated. He raised his head. “Or else I really will believe you’re a virgin.”</p>
<p>“I’ve been with someone before,” Yibo shot back. He grabbed a fistful of Jackson’s left buttock and squeezed. “There. Good enough for you? Do I look like I’m hot for you now? We don’t have to rely on putting on a show like this. Our attitude is what will sell it.”</p>
<p>Jackson’s amusement felt demeaning. “What’s our attitude, then, Yibo? Are we going to be boyfriends who argue in public all the time and then have makeup hate sex? Because as sexy as that sound, it won’t give the paparazzi much to work with.” </p>
<p>He grabbed Yibo by the hips and held him firmly as he ground down against him. Jackson was hard. It startled Yibo. Not as much, though, as learning that he was hard, too.</p>
<p>“Convince me you can do this,” Jackson said, “or I’m walking out right now. I’m not about to lose face in front of all of China. Not for you.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you want from me!” Yibo argued. His frustration and panic felt like a balloon behind his ribcage.</p>
<p>“I want passion!” Jackson blurted, finally losing his cocky demeaner. His laugh was high-pitched. “Act like you want me. As though I don’t disgust you. <i>Pretend</i>, even if it’s the only time in your life that you have to.”</p>
<p>But it wouldn’t be the only time, and Yibo’s panic morphed into a blistering ache. This had to work. He had no other options. </p>
<p>He couldn’t unfold his legs since they were trapped beneath Jackson, so he used his arms to pull the other man back down. Yibo buried his face against Jackson’s shoulder, hiding, while he grabbed Jackson’s ass and yanked him in against him.</p>
<p>“Grab my hair,” Yibo demanded, his voice muffled by Jackson’s shirt. “Grab my throat and choke me. Stop fucking around with kisses and—”</p>
<p>Pain, sharp and bright like fireworks, exploded across his scalp. Yibo cried out as his head was jerked back from Jackson’s shoulder and held to the sofa cushion by the hair. Jackson’s other hand curled around the front of his throat.</p>
<p>Jackson looked angry and wild, like he’d reached his limit. “That what you want?”</p>
<p>“Do it,” Yibo whispered as their eyes met. “I like it.”</p>
<p>Jackson’s pupils expanded. “Why does that matter?”</p>
<p>“You want me hot for you, don’t you?” Yibo licked his lips. “And Wang Zheng will hate it.”</p>
<p>He didn’t know which of the enticements was the one to convince Jackson, but in the next second Yibo gasped at the tightening constriction around his throat.</p>
<p>“Yes. More,” he urged. He pulled Jackson in again by the ass. Yibo was fully hard and groaned as his cock pressed to Jackson’s. It felt so good. He wished they were naked, wished for bare skin and slickness.</p>
<p>“You can do anything you want to me,” he panted, “and you do. Every night. You take what you want and I let you.”</p>
<p>“This isn’t the first time you’ve come up with this fantasy,” Jackson accused, though he didn’t appear to be complaining. Color streaked across his high cheekbones. His fringe, falling in messy tufts over one eye, made him look reckless. He tightened his grip on Yibo’s hair, watching as Yibo whimpered and bit his bottom lip. “If I do this to you in public you’ll cream your pants, won’t you?”</p>
<p>Yibo shuddered as shame and want rushed through him. He wanted to explain what this was, he wanted to defend himself. But then Jackson squeezed his throat again and the excuses floated away from him.</p>
<p>“Choke me,” he moaned, giving in to it. What did he have to lose anymore? He’d lost it all already.</p>
<p>Jackson fitted his cock beside Yibo’s and fucked him through their clothing. A strange determination was on his face as he watched himself take charge of Yibo. But also questions. Yibo saw the confusion in his eyes. Yibo understood. He hadn’t thought they’d end up in this place, either.</p>
<p>“When’s the last time you came?” Jackson asked roughly.</p>
<p>Yibo tried to swallow but found the action difficult with Jackson’s palm pressing down on his throat. “Y-yesterday, I think. No, day—before.”</p>
<p>“That’s the last time you do until I say you can.”</p>
<p>Yibo’s breath was thin. He felt himself growing light-headed. “I can’t cum?”</p>
<p>Jackson drove harder against him. “No. I want you desperate. If you look like this in public—” He closed his eyes for a moment as a shudder tore through him. “They’ll all believe you’re mine.”</p>
<p>Yibo only partially understood. He couldn’t focus now that air was scarce in his lungs and a sense of helplessness was beginning to smother him. His grip on Jackson’s ass loosened. What little breath he could hold was pushed out of him each time Jackson thrust. Darkness teased the edges of his vision. He needed Jackson to take him there. Just a little bit more. A little bit more—</p>
<p>Jackson released him. Yibo seized a huge lungful of air reflexively. With oxygen came awareness. He grabbed after Jackson, but Jackson easily peeled his hands away and climbed off the sofa. </p>
<p>“Why—” Yibo whimpered.</p>
<p>Jackson stood over him, breathing nearly as heavily as he did.</p>
<p>“We’re going out tonight,” Jackson said, his voice thicker and deeper. “Dress up. Make it sexy. Slutty. Whatever you think will upset Wang Zheng the most. Make it count.”</p>
<p>Left bared and with his hard-on tenting his pants, Yibo could only touch his throat and stare up at him. “Okay.”</p>
<p>Jackson watched him stroke his Adam’s apple. Something hungry rolled behind his eyes before he shook his head sharply. “Get that contract ready.” He stabbed a hand through his hair and breathed out harshly before snatching his coat. “We’re doing this. God help me.”</p>
<p>With a grimace, Jackson adjusted the mound in his jeans before striding away. Yibo didn’t rise to look over the back of the sofa until he heard the front door slam.</p>
<p>They were doing this. The Plan was in motion. Instead of celebrating, he closed his eyes and sighed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter got a bit long so I've broken it into two parts. Should still read alright. But fair warning, the second part is still a WiP.<br/>Shoutout to the Thirst to the End of Yibo gc for the peer pressure. Enjoy your suffering, ladies 😈</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You ever have kinky sex?”</p><p>Yixing set his pen down and leaned back. “Good afternoon to you, too.”</p><p>“I asked you a question.” </p><p>“You’re seething,” Yixing observed. “And taking it out on me. Also, you’re not supposed to be here. We’ve talked about this.”</p><p>Jackson ground his teeth together for a moment where he stood in the middle of Yixing’s office. It was a beautiful space, the walls decorated with dramatic but tasteful gold foil dragons, the windows frosted in the corners with Chinese geometric patterns. Jackson didn’t see any of it.</p><p>“I asked you if you’ve ever had kinky sex and you don’t look surprised by the question.”</p><p>Yixing sighed. “I’m an adult. I have experience. Also, I need to point out that you’re asking this of someone who’s spanked you.”</p><p>Jackson didn’t match his smile. “You’re three years older than me, ge.” He dropped into one of the black chairs facing the other man’s desk. “You’re not an ancient sex guru.”</p><p>“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. In answer to your question, yes. I have had kinky sex.”</p><p>“Choking a guy?” Jackson asked the question almost maliciously. He was angrier than he’d realized.</p><p>Yixing firmed his lips. “Not something I’m into.” He cocked his head. “You?”</p><p>“Hell, no,” Jackson said immediately, but had to check himself. The past couldn’t exactly be erased. “I mean, I…don’t know. Maybe. No, I don’t know. Hell.”  </p><p>“Jackson, please take a deep breath. Calm down and tell me what’s going on.”</p><p>Jackson had driven straight to the LIT Enterprises building without pausing to question why. What he’d known for certain was that he’d needed to get away from Wang Yibo and figure out what was going on. He’d encountered a different Wang Yibo than he’d expected today. This version threw a wrench into the plans Jackson had made with Yixing.</p><p>“I don’t know what’s going on with this kid,” he admitted with a groan.</p><p>“He’s three years younger than you, didi,” Yixing said, turning Jackson’s words on him. “He’s not a child.”</p><p>“He told me he’s been with someone before.”</p><p>Yixing stared at him for several seconds. Jackson was about to ask him what was wrong but Yixing spoke up. “That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it? That he’s not an innocent virgin. Now your conscience is clear.”</p><p>Jackson scoffed. “I’m not convinced he was with a woman. Not with his kinks.”</p><p>That brought a low chuckle from Yixing. “You don’t think a woman can dominate a man? What he wants is to submit.”</p><p>The easy way he said that raised one of Jackson’s eyebrows. </p><p>“Okay, sure. I guess. I’ll take your word for it. But he himself, in the beginning, said that he’s not friggin’ gay, remember?”</p><p>“What does your gut tell you?”</p><p>“I think he’s at least bi. It’s a vibe I’m getting from him. He’s too, I don’t know, <i>sharp</i> for a woman to handle.”</p><p>“Then shouldn’t that make things easier?”</p><p>“Why would he tell me he’s not gay and then proceed to suggest a scenario in which we play gay lovers? And you’re going along with it.” Jackson threw up his hands. “Yixing, do you know something you’re not telling me?”</p><p>Yixing’s patient amusement appeared to wither. After a moment, he said quietly, “Just because you’re afraid you can’t handle him doesn’t mean you’re being set up.”</p><p>Jackson felt as though he’d been slapped. Shame spilled through him. Yixing was his closest friend, not to mention the only one he felt he could trust nowadays.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You’re right. I’ve let them make me paranoid. Shit.” Jackson tipped his head back. “I told myself I wouldn’t let them win. I’m doing a crap job of that, aren’t I?”</p><p>“You’re under a lot of pressure, Jackson. Don’t beat yourself up for being human.”</p><p>“What’s so good about being human if it means you become a jackass? Jackson the Jackass. Heh.”</p><p>Yixing turned his chair away from the desk and stood. Jackson watched him warily as he rounded the desk and stood leaning against it, directly in front of Jackson.</p><p>“What is it about Wang Yibo that’s got you like this? You can be honest with me.”</p><p>The presumption that Jackson was hiding something was irritating, but Jackson forced himself not to become defensive and to be more like Yixing: cool-headed and rational.</p><p>“Something about him bothers me.”</p><p>“Such as what?”</p><p>“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here,” Jackson retorted. “He’s good-looking, I can say it. But he’s…different. He’s got an attitude.”</p><p>“That’s it?” Yixing didn’t sound convinced, and admittedly Jackson wouldn’t have believed himself, either. “That’s enough to get you worked up like this?”</p><p>“I have a type, alright?” he said, fighting back his annoyance. “He’s the opposite of that. I like people with personality. With energy. Like I have.”</p><p>Yixing’s lips twitched. “That’s what you see in <i>me</i>?”</p><p>“You’re friendly! That’s personality. And you care about things. This kid—I’m not saying he’s self-centered, but he’s closed off. And I feel like he’s on this pedestal above everyone else, looking down on us.”</p><p>“What did he say to make you think this?”</p><p>“But that’s the thing!” Jackson said with a mirthless laugh. “It’s not anything he’s said. It’s just an impression I get from him. He’s cold as ice.”</p><p>“Is he?” Yixing asked, tilting his head.</p><p>Jackson bristled, recognizing when he was being called out. “He’s not like us, alright? He’d be a dud at parties. He probably can’t even dance, just shifts his weight from foot to foot. I can’t relate to someone like that, so yeah, I’m finding this plan tough because of it.”</p><p>“But you said he’s good-looking,” Yixing pointed out, ever patient. He could make Jackson feel like a teenager in comparison with his ability to calmly work through problems. “And your <i>job</i> is to seduce him. Doesn’t seem so tough to me.”</p><p>They’d reached the crux of it, and Jackson didn’t want to explore it. He surged to his feet and captured Yixing’s face between his hands. The older man was surprised, but he didn’t pull away when Jackson kissed him.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Yixing whispered. He didn’t move, didn’t touch Jackson in return.</p><p>“I’m kissing you. What’s it feel like?”</p><p>Yixing smiled and while it highlighted his beauty, Jackson sensed pity in it. “What are you afraid of, Jackson? You’re one of the bravest, most confident men I know.”</p><p>The words helped, but not enough.</p><p>“Well, there may be the small matter of my life being in shambles and my best friend and lover distancing himself from me when I need him the most.”</p><p>Jackson didn’t like laying himself bare, but he had to. He’d reached the end of his rope.</p><p>Yixing finally moved, cupping Jackson’s neck, mimicking Jackson’s hold on him.</p><p>“Baobei,” he said gently, “I’m still here. I’m helping you, remember? This plan—it’s going to save you.”</p><p>“And help you,” Jackson reminded him, but there was no heat behind it.</p><p>“It will,” Yixing agreed, “but this is mostly for you. You’re out of options, but not out of choices. I wouldn’t have suggested this if I didn’t think it would benefit you.”</p><p>“What if he renegs? What if he doesn’t pay me?”</p><p>“Don’t you two have a contract?”</p><p>“Not yet. But tonight. I’ll make sure we sign one tonight.”</p><p>“Then what’s the problem?”</p><p>Jackson heaved a sigh. “I think I’m looking for excuses not to do this. I’m not gonna lie, ge: this makes me nervous. Something about it—it doesn’t sit right with me.”</p><p>Yixing stroked his jawline with his thumbs. “Then don’t do it. I can float you a loan. Give you a position in my company.”</p><p>Jackson drew in a sharp breath. “Wang Zhang will come after you. No way, ge. I’m not painting a target on you, too.” He cursed, but if he were honest with himself, he was aware that he was only running from himself. “I’ll do this,” he said, releasing Yixing, which prompted the other man to lower his hands, too. Jackson missed his touch. “I think I just needed to vent.”</p><p>“You need to think of this from a different angle. You’re going to be seducing a very handsome young man who shares your dislike of Wang Zheng. You aren’t enemies. You’re going to be good friends and allies soon.” Yixing smirked. “If you do your job right.”</p><p>“Yeah, whatever. He doesn’t stand a chance against me.”</p><p>“Except if he’s asking you to choke him,” Yixing said knowingly.</p><p>Jackson hated the heat in his face. “It caught me by surprise. No one’s ever asked me for that before.”</p><p>He stilled as Yixing leaned close. His lips brushed Jackson’s ear, making him shiver. “But once you started doing it, you got off on it, didn’t you, Jackson?”</p><p>Jackson wanted to protest, but this was Yixing. He’d see right through him. “It was different,” he admitted with reluctance.</p><p>“It surprised you.”</p><p>“You could say that.”</p><p>“You were surprised that you liked it when he began gasping,” Yixing murmured. “You didn’t expect to get hard when those big lips of his parted and he panted for breath. Did his eyes roll back, Jackson?”</p><p>Blood surged to Jackson’s cock.</p><p>“Did you hold him down? Or did you choke him from behind?”</p><p>Jackson swallowed hard. “I pinned him to the sofa. By the hair.”</p><p>Yixing made a breathless sound of excitement. “How hard was he while you held him down? Did you feel him?”</p><p>Jackson yanked Yixing's hand to his groin and pressed the other man's palm against his hard-on. “Felt like that.”</p><p>“He’s big, hmm?” Yixing taunted, but he didn’t tease. He massaged Jackson roughly and used the heel of his hand for added friction. “He’s going to be yours to play with if you just keep going.”</p><p>“You keep going, too,” Jackson ordered. He groaned as he ground himself into Yixing’s palm. “Fuck. Take me out, ge. Put me in your mouth. I’m begging you.”</p><p>“I like you begging, but it won’t get you anywhere today.” Yixing kissed his cheek. “You picked the wrong place to confront me, baobei.”</p><p>He was right, of course. Jackson shouldn’t have come for him at his office, but he’d been desperate. Nearly as desperate as he was currently.</p><p>“Please,” he gritted out. “Don’t leave me like this.”</p><p>A voice in the back of his head reminded him that he’d left Wang Yibo exactly like this, and even better, he’d ordered him not to cum until Jackson gave him permission. Imagining Yibo suffering like he was only sent more blood pulsing into Jackson’s cock. He whimpered and held Yixing’s hand against him as he thrust. “Please.”</p><p>“You’re going to choke him again,” Yixing whispered against his cheek. “And he’s going to fall apart for you so sweetly. He’ll do anything you say.”</p><p>Jackson grabbed Yixing by the shoulder. His knees felt like they were going to buckle.</p><p>“I’m going to cum,” he panted. He molded Yixing’s fingers around his length. “Make me cum, ge.”</p><p>“Tell me you'll choke him.”</p><p>Jackson caught Yixing behind the head. He crushed their mouths together, parting only long enough to moan, “I'll smother him.”</p><p>Yixing groaned. He squeezed Jackson just the way he liked it, with heavy pressure around the tip and rough strokes to the base. As he worked him, Yixing kissed him and whispered more filth about dominating Wang Yibo. </p><p>Jackson reached the tipping point, when he could no longer return the kiss and could only gasp as Yixing licked his lips and squeezed him tight. His climax rolled up from his balls, clenching every muscle in his abdomen. Yixing swallowed his cry as he came in wave after wave.</p><p>“Shh,” Yixing whispered as Jackson came down. He shifted his grip to Jackson’s hip and lightly petted him. “Don’t let my secretary hear you.”</p><p>Jackson shuddered and dropped his forehead against the older man’s. “That only turns me on more,” he groused.</p><p>Yixing laughed softly. “I know.”</p><p>When Jackson calmed down enough, he stood straight and searched Yixing’s face. Color rode high in his cheeks and his ears were red. His eyes shone with lust. Jackson wanted to bite his lips until they bled.</p><p>“Nah ah ah,” Yixing said, wagging a finger in his face. “I know that look. It’s not happening.”</p><p>Jackson reached for him, but Yixing laughed again and smoothly twisted out of reach. He seated himself behind his desk again.</p><p>“I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry,” he told Jackson with an arch smile.</p><p>“You’re no fun, Yixing-ge.” Jackson grimaced. “I gotta use your restroom.”</p><p>He ducked into Yixing’s private restroom and cleaned himself and wiped out his underwear. He wished this scenario occurred often enough that he needed to keep spare clothes here, but it didn’t. Yixing was too disciplined. Jackson was lucky not to have been kicked out upon arrival.</p><p>“All better?” Yixing asked brightly when Jackson emerged. His question was layered. He also had his pen back in his hand. Their ‘appointment’ was officially over.</p><p>“I’ll do this,” Jackson confirmed. “I don’t know why I freaked out the way I did. Uncharted territory, I guess.”</p><p>“It’s good to gain experience,” Yixing said wisely and then grinned. “Especially of this nature.”</p><p>“I guess even kinky experience is experience.” Jackson cast a last regretful look at his friend and lover. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”</p><p>Yixing nodded, his expression serene. “I want to hear everything.”</p><p>~~~~~</p><p>Jackson and Wang Yibo’s ‘coming out’ was going to be an event. Jackson didn’t have the luxury of time so he couldn’t drag this out and be less obvious. He had bills to pay, so the sooner Wang Zheng got the message that Jackson was banging his son, the sooner he could get angry enough to disinherit or disown Yibo and fulfill the contract.</p><p>The location for their grand introduction as a couple, the Ritz-Carlton Pudong, didn’t allow for reservations for non-hotel guests, but Jackson was counting on Wang Yibo’s notoriety to get them a table without trouble. All they had to do was show up.</p><p>Jackson pulled up to the port cochere of Yibo’s complex and climbed out of his Mercedes. Just as he was about to hand the keys to the valet, Yibo emerged from the glass front entrance of the building.</p><p>The keys slipped from Jackson’s fingers as he stared agog at his companion for the night. Even the valet attendant ignored the keys on the ground to stare. It was his inaction that roused Jackson from his stasis enough to give the guy a look that sent him scurrying away.</p><p>Jackson retrieved his keys, using the time out of view to compose himself. He was mostly cool when he straightened up again and rounded the front of his car to open the passenger side door.</p><p>“Wang Yibo,” he murmured as the younger man walked up. “You like to surprise me with your looks.”</p><p>“Is this a surprise?” Yibo countered. He blinked slowly, drawing attention to the dark eyeliner and the smoky shadow around his eyes. “You’ve never seen my covers, apparently.”</p><p>“I have, as a matter of fact. I just don’t remember seeing you on any of them looking like this. I would have bought multiple copies.”</p><p>The motorcycle cover came to mind, but this was the next level. Yibo had extensions in his hair that softened the angry hack job of earlier. The longer strands pulled attention to his soft cheekbones and bedroom eyes. Little gems glittered in the extensions like caught raindrops.</p><p>Yibo’s outfit was entirely black. A silky, boatneck top accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and offered glimpses of his sharp collarbones. He’d pushed the drapey sleeves up to his elbows to show off the silver bangles around both narrow wrists. The blouse was tucked into a leather mini-skirt that reached mid-thigh. Jackson’s eyes lingered on the tempting slices of moon-pale skin visible between the bottom of the skirt and the tops of knee-high leather boots. </p><p>“Clothes are clothes,” Yibo said, smirking with rouged lips when Jackson finally raised his gaze to meet his. “But for people like my father, this is his nightmare. He’d have one of his goons check to see if my dick’s still intact, if he could.”</p><p><i>I’m tempted to do the same,</i> Jackson thought, though it wasn’t entirely true. Yibo’s gender had been artfully blurred by this look, but Jackson didn’t have trouble identifying him as a man. He was glad. The sharp angularity of Yibo’s jawline and the prominence of his Adam’s apple were comforting. Not only that, those hints of masculinity were a sprinkle of spice on a sweet confection, titillating and tantalizing the imagination. Jackson wouldn’t be staring so hard if Yibo had managed to completely pass himself off as a woman. He knew what women looked like. This creature hovered in a magical limbo between genders and Jackson was entranced.</p><p>“You’re drooling,” Yibo said.</p><p>Jackson grinned and raised both brows. “Am I? Then congratulations. You’ve managed to shock me, which means you’ll shock everyone else.” He motioned at his car. “Climb in. We’ve got plans.”</p><p>Yibo carried a small leather satchel, which he tossed carelessly into the footwell before climbing into the car. It was evident that while he felt comfortable in women’s clothes, he didn’t wear them often. He stepped into the car rather than sit down first and swing his legs in. Stepping in the way he did caused his skirt to ride dangerously high up his thighs. Jackson blinked, telling himself he did <i>not</i> glimpse what he thought he had between the other man’s legs. He jogged around to the driver’s side and got in.</p><p>“You look good,” Yibo said, belatedly, sounding like an after-thought. “Turtlenecks suit you.”</p><p>“Thanks, not that it matters. You’re the peacock that will be getting all the attention tonight.”</p><p>“Jealous?”</p><p>As Jackson pulled onto the street, he reminded himself of his conversation with Yixing. “Not at all. I’m glad you look stunning. It raises the odds that this will work.”</p><p>Yibo said nothing, prompting Jackson to glance at him. Was that a hint of color on his cheeks or had he used blush, too?</p><p>“I have to ask,” Jackson blurted. “Why don’t you have a lover? I’ve never heard of you being with anyone.”</p><p>Yibo rested his hands primly in his lap. “Maybe I fool around with lots of lovers.”</p><p>“Haha, that’s a good one. No, really. Why are you single?”</p><p>Yibo pursed his lips and looked out the side window. “It’s not easy to date when my father is Wang Zheng. As you’ve found out, he likes to attack people. Intimidate them. That narrows down the list of people willing to get involved with me.”</p><p>“But you did manage to hook up,” Jackson reminded him. “At least once.”</p><p>“Mnn.”</p><p>“What happened? I can’t imagine any of them willingly walking away, so why’d you give them the boot?”</p><p>“You’re assuming I’m irresistible.”</p><p>“Wang Yibo, don’t bullshit me. You know exactly how handsome you are.”</p><p>Yibo smirked, but it seemed bitter. “That doesn’t cure everything. Anyway, it didn’t work out. I’ll have time to date later, in between my races, if all goes as it should.”</p><p>“Right.” The reminder of their plan put Jackson back on track, figuratively speaking. “You bring the contract?”</p><p>Yibo retrieved his satchel and pulled out his phone. “Your electric signature will be good enough.”</p><p>“Enter it for me.”</p><p>Yibo looked at him in surprise. “Don’t you want to read the terms, first?”</p><p>Jackson met his gaze. “Did they change?”</p><p>“No, but—”</p><p>“Sign it for me. I trust you. If it turns out you’ve backstabbed me, I’m a man with nothing to lose and I’ll make sure you pay.”</p><p>“Nice,” Yibo drawled, but he began tapping the screen, adding Jackson’s e-signature where necessary. “Done. I’ve texted you the link to download the finalized version.” He put his phone away. “Whatever happens, you should know…” He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”</p><p>“You really hate your dad and his business that much, huh?”</p><p>“You have no idea.”</p><p>They were still twenty minutes out, longer if traffic was bad. Jackson decided it could only help their performance if he could humanize Yibo instead of viewing him as a cold statue on a pedestal.</p><p>“What is it about him that makes you hate him?” he asked. “Is it because he’s trying to take away your choices? Because he belittles your interests?”</p><p>“You should call me darling when we’re in public.”</p><p>The abrupt change of topic threw Jackson. “What?”</p><p>“Call me Yibo or darling. Make sure people hear you say it.”</p><p>“Darling.” A memory triggered in Jackson’s head. “Your father hates that endearment. He yelled at my PA once for using it while on the phone with her husband. Wang Zheng’s reaction was out of bounds for something so simple. He <i>hates</i> that word. Why?”</p><p>Yibo's smile was brittle. “It’s what my mother used to call her lover. The one she died with.”</p><p>Jackson’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe he’d completely forgotten about the scandal that had unfolded while he was still in university. Looking at Yibo now, he realized why the younger man looked so unlike his father and why he could get away with heavy makeup and women’s clothing. Yibo heavily favored his mother.</p><p>“The two of them died in an auto accident,” Yibo said, refreshing Jackson’s memory. </p><p>“I remember,” he murmured as discomfort moved through him. “Until then, no one had known your mother was having an affair.”</p><p>“I did.” </p><p>An odd challenge was in Yibo's voice, daring Jackson to call him out for keeping a secret of infidelity. Jackson had no interest in doing so.</p><p>“Your father refused to speak your mother’s name after the accident. He kept insisting to the media that she never existed as a person. It was—” <i>sick</i>, “—surreal. He came off so heartless. She was dead.”</p><p>“My father holds grudges.” Yibo's eyes bored into Jackson’s profile. “But he’s not the only one.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Jackson said, shaken. “That must have been rough. You were just a kid when all that happened.”</p><p>“He tried to erase my mother for her disloyalty.” Yibo looked out the side window again. “I wouldn’t let him. We’ve been fighting ever since.”</p><p>Jackson tugged at the throat of his turtleneck, distinctly uneasy with the grief swirling through the car. He wanted to ask if anyone had stepped in to take care of Yibo since his father had abdicated his duty as caretaker. He wanted to ask if Yibo had had anyone hug him and tell him everything would be alright.</p><p>He suspected the answer to both questions would be one he didn’t want to hear.</p><p>He thought of Yixing’s plan, and finally felt that something positive could come from it, not just for him, but for Yibo, too. </p><p>“We’ll get your revenge,” Jackson promised.</p><p>“I don’t want revenge,” Yibo said so softly that Jackson barely heard him. “I just want to be happy.”</p><p>~~~~~</p><p>As anticipated, once the head host recognized Yibo, they had no trouble gaining one of the best tables at <i>Flair</i>. The rooftop lounge offered an incredible view of the Bund, the financial district skyscrapers, and the Oriental Pearl Tower. Jackson had brought clients here in the past when he’d wanted to impress with the best that Shanghai had to offer. This was the first time he was personally escorting the best in the city in the form of a person.</p><p>Jackson had never been the focus of so much mass attention. He was a very handsome man, and at times he enjoyed dressing with a hint of flash, but turning heads wasn’t his SOP. He seduced once he was in up close. </p><p>The experience of Wang Yibo was the polar opposite.</p><p>Jackson heard people literally gasping when they caught sight of his companion. Others stopped in mid-conversation to openly stare. Yibo acted as though he were unaware, and maybe he was so used to such attention that he was able to tune it all out. Jackson couldn’t do the same. Nor did he want to, since he found the reactions utterly amusing.</p><p>Weirdly, he even felt a little bit proud to be the one with a hand at the small of Wang Yibo’s back. Everyone lusted after him, but Yibo belonged—at least for the duration of this fantasy—to Jackson Wang.</p><p>He heard his own name mentioned a time or two and thought smugly, <i>That’s right. Not a fallen star after all, am I? Don’t you wish you could be in my shoes?</i> </p><p>He was adept at ignoring the fact that none of his newly acquired cache had been earned.</p><p>Once they were seated, Yibo glanced only cursorily at the dining menu. He seemed to be slightly on edge, his blunt fingers tapping restlessly against the side of his water glass. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed as he looked around.</p><p>“Does it bother you that they stare?” Jackson murmured as he perused the menu.</p><p>“I’m used to it. Besides, we want them to stare.” Yibo turned his attention back to Jackson. “Some have already begun recording us with their phones.”</p><p>It was Jackson’s cue and he didn’t miss a beat. Casually, he reached across the table and caught Yibo’s tapping hand, drawing it away from his glass and to his lips. He looked over Yibo’s knuckles at him as he took his time kissing the backs of his fingers.</p><p>“Romantic,” Yibo muttered with a twist of his lips.</p><p>“I’m in charge,” Jackson informed him mildly, lips moving against his skin. “You want to complain about how I do this? Save it for the car. <i>Darling.</i>”</p><p>He set down the menu and used both hands to turn Yibo’s over. He studied his slim wrist for a moment before touching his lips to it. Across the table, Yibo finally went still.</p><p>Jackson raised his eyes, watching him as he traced the silky thread of veins and arteries with the tip of his tongue. He gently slid the bangles up Yibo’s forearm, leaving more pale skin for him to explore.</p><p>“Did you do as I told you?” </p><p>Yibo swallowed before speaking. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>Jackson flatted his tongue and swept it up the inside of his wrist. “Did you cum?”</p><p>Yibo’s eyes were wide. He must not have expected Jackson to speak in public about such a subject. </p><p>“It’s been half a day.”</p><p>“True, but when I left you, you were so hard, darling, that if I’d put my mouth on your dick—” he sucked at Yibo’s skin, “—you would have shot off like a rocket.”</p><p>The tips of Yibo’s ears blushed, but to his credit, he kept his composure. “But I knew you wouldn’t,” he said smoothly, “because it turns you on to know I’m suffering for you. For instance, I bet you’d get off knowing that I could barely tuck my cock into my panties because I’ve been hard since you left me.”</p><p>Jackson paused, his lips a millimeter from Yibo’s skin. “You’re wearing panties?”</p><p>“I know you saw them when I climbed into the car.”</p><p>Jackson’s smile was wry. “So you caught me looking.”</p><p>“I wanted you to look.”</p><p><i>This kid is no joke.</i> </p><p>Jackson allowed the admiration to flow through him, though he wouldn’t let it build. </p><p>He turned Yibo’s hand over. Yibo’s masculinity was more apparent here in the veins wrapped around his forearm. Jackson followed one of the thickest with his fingertip until the barrier of bangles prevented him from going higher.</p><p>“I’m not normally into cross-dressing,” he said. “But you make it work thanks to these. They won’t let me forget that I can stroke you off if I want to, or I can play with your balls.”</p><p>“No one else can hear this conversation,” Yibo said, his voice tight. Annoyed. “Why are you wasting our time with it?”</p><p>Jackson considered Yibo’s impatience, trying to decide if it was a distraction or genuine. “I was only trying to set the mood, Yibo. What would you prefer I waste our time with instead?”</p><p>Instead of answering, Yibo pushed back his chair. “I’m going to dance. Follow me only if you can keep the beat.”</p><p>He stalked off, his passage followed by dozens of eyes and cellphones. </p><p>Jackson laughed softly. “Dance? Keep the beat? Oh, baby. You don’t know what you’re in for.”</p><p>Grinning like a shark, he followed Yibo across the roof, eager to teach a very delicious lesson.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don't kill me, but I keep forgetting about this story 😅 That's the main reason it took me so long to update.</p><p>Anyway, I tried to make it up to you. Let me know what you think. Oh, and I included a photo of the real Flair to help you envision the scene.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p> </p><p>When he’d been on a mission to seduce Yixing in their early days, Jackson had gone all out. They’d been in a club. People were dancing wildly—and badly—around them to EDM. Really, there’d been only one way of going about it, and that was dancing hard enough to clear a circle and catch Yixing’s eye. And once Jackson achieved that, he’d immediately been up in the older man’s business, grinding like they were putting on a sex show.</p><p>That wasn’t something Jackson could do here. Not on the rooftop of an exclusive restaurant and lounge where big money was being spent and big money was having conversations. He’d get thrown out and besides, it wasn’t something he was <i>willing</i> to do. He considered himself to be a high-class guy. It was how he’d lived the majority of his life and it was how he saw himself. Lack of employment didn’t change that.</p><p>However, as soon as he saw Wang Yibo begin dancing, Jackson’s mind wanted to wade straight into the gutter.</p><p>A good dancer made themselves known. Within ten seconds, Jackson could identify a bonafide one. With Yibo, it took only five.</p><p>It actually brought Jackson’s step up short when he saw the fluid way in which Yibo moved. Normal people just didn’t move like this. This was something you were born with, a trait like the color of your eyes or the size of your feet. Dance classes could take you only so far. They couldn’t take you to where Yibo was.</p><p>He was impressive, and Jackson was unprepared for how much it affected him. A veil seemed to fall away from his eyes when he looked at Wang Yibo now. This was a different person he was seeing. This was someone he understood on an intimate level. This was someone he instantly respected.</p><p>This was someone he needed to fuck.</p><p>The thought was crude but it was honest. Jackson felt it in his blood: an urgent, primal drumming. He stalked through the restaurant, closing in on Yibo who danced alone by the railing, eyes on the city skyline view, seemingly in his own world. His moves weren’t big or attention-grabbing, but they were clean and sharp. To someone who appreciated dancing the way Jackson did, they were the moves of a master.</p><p>When he passed the last table separating him from where Yibo was dancing, he considered his approach. The song playing over the speakers had just changed, switching to Bruno Mars’ <i>Versace on the Floor</i>. The pop ballad may as well have been an anthem. Jackson viewed it as the gods giving him the thumbs up. Wang Zheng no longer mattered. Jackson’s career no longer mattered. There was only this moment and the man in the skirt who danced as though he wished he were naked.</p><p>Jackson used his suitcoat as a prop, tugging it and flaring it peacock-like as he slowly danced up to Yibo. There were two situations in which Jackson felt he was the master of his domain. One was while at work, closing a deal. The other was while he danced. Tonight, he’d be closing a very personal sort of deal and Yibo didn’t stand a chance.</p><p>Jackson’s movements finally caught his prey’s attention. Their eyes met, and the same surprise Jackson had felt upon seeing Yibo’s talent filled Yibo’s eyes upon seeing Jackson’s.</p><p>“You doubted me,” Jackson murmured as he ran his hands down the front of his own suit lapels. He looked up beneath his lashes at Yibo. “Never underestimate me, darling.”</p><p>Yibo was quick to recover. He slid one long leg forward, boot not quite settling between Jackson’s feet, and then curled his hips back, putting an arch into his back. Jackson swallowed, wishing he were seated at one of the tables behind Yibo, because that view—</p><p>“My mistake,” Yibo agreed in a low voice. “I won’t make it again.”</p><p>He danced closer, but didn’t touch, his palms hovering just above Jackson’s chest and sweeping up over his shoulders as though measuring him. The silky material of Yibo’s blouse dipped on one side, sliding off a sharp, milky shoulder. The blouse gaped in front, affording Jackson a glimpse of a small, dark nipple.</p><p>“You’re shameless for someone who’s under the public eye,” Jackson observed. What he wanted to say was, <i>You’re a bit of an attention whore, aren’t you?</i> except he’d say it with all the admiration in the world. When one was as beautiful as Wang Yibo, the world should be your stage.</p><p>“I told you I’m used to people watching me and I don’t care.” Yibo rolled his hips just enough for the front of the skirt’s fabric to stretch taut over an unmistakable bulge.</p><p><i>Fuck. Those panties aren’t doing anything to control that.</i> </p><p>Jackson moved forward. Yibo danced backward. Jackson continued to advance while lightly singing along to the English lyrics, pretending as though he were cajoling a shy lover to strip for him. Yibo eventually backed up to the railing and Jackson placed his hands on either side of his narrow hips to trap him.</p><p>“Do you grind?” Jackson asked as he invaded Yibo’s space.</p><p>“That’s a cheap way to dance.”</p><p>“And you’re not cheap.”</p><p>“What do you think?”</p><p>Jackson smiled, thinking he’d heard a hint of petulance in the question. “I think you’re more expensive than anyone in this city, Wang Yibo. Now that I’m jobless, I’m not sure how I’ll afford you.”</p><p>“You won’t be able to.” Yibo’s voice was breathier, as though he were pulling less air into his lungs. Certainly if he breathed harder, their chests would touch, but so far a few centimeters kept them decent.</p><p>“You’re probably right,” Jackson murmured. “Since I can’t pay, I’ll just have to take and apologize later.”</p><p>He didn’t miss the way Yibo’s lashes fluttered before he muttered, “Sounds barbaric.”</p><p>Jackson smirked. “Sounds like something that would get you off hard, my kinky young friend.”</p><p>Yibo put his palm on Jackson’s chest, not quite pushing him away. “You’re not my friend.”</p><p>Jackson only smiled. “No. I’m your lover, Wang Yibo. You lucky, lucky man.”</p><p>He made a move of his own, resting his right hand on Yibo’s hip. All the diners to his right were granted a front row view of the proprietary touch. But Jackson wasn’t stopping there. He ran his palm down Yibo’s flank, until his fingertips teased the hem of his skirt.</p><p>“From the beginning, you’ve doubted my bravery,” Jackson reminded him.</p><p>Yibo didn’t react. “Are you going to show me I’ve been wrong?”</p><p>“You’ve been very wrong.” Jackson leaned forward and whispered, “Cheers to Daddy,” as he slowly pulled Yibo’s skirt up his thigh.</p><p>He wished he could watch himself doing it, wished he could see for himself that long, sleek leg revealed inch by inch like pale sand laid bare by the tides. Jackson wished, too, that he could see the faces of the diners around them, for he could definitely hear them. Their gasps and murmurs left no doubt that at least one of them was recording what Jackson was doing. There was no turning back now. The die had been cast.</p><p>“You really want to think about my father at a time like this?” Yibo stood still but he was vibrating like an electric current as Jackson lifted his skirt higher.</p><p>“I want your father to choke on a mackerel. So in a way, yes. This is for him.” Jackson paused with the hem of Yibo’s skirt just beneath the lace edge of his panties. “It’s also for me, a reward for enduring your relentless teasing.”</p><p>“It’s only teasing if it’s something you wanted.”</p><p>Jackson wrapped his left arm around Yibo’s waist and jerked him in tight, knocking the breath from his lungs. “I want it.”</p><p>Holding Yibo, he spun them, putting Yibo’s back to the restaurant, letting everyone from diners to employees watch how Jackson released his skirt only to boldly palm his ass.</p><p>He’d shocked Yibo with the blatant pawing. Jackson noted the tiniest hint of fear and doubt on Yibo’s face now that they’d crossed the point of no return. </p><p>“Don’t lose it now,” Jackson murmured to him. “We’re in this together. We’re a team.”</p><p>“We’re no team.” But something danced around the periphery of Yibo’s fear. Hope? A yearning to trust Jackson?</p><p>“We’re a team,” Jackson repeated firmly. “If you go down, it won’t be alone.” He squeezed Yibo’s ass. “But you’re not going down.”</p><p>
  <i>So baby let's just turn down the lights<br/>
And close the door<br/>
Ooh I love that dress<br/>
But you won't need it anymore</i>
</p><p>Dancing with a partner who knew what they were doing was like great sex. Yibo matched Jackson for every hip roll and sinuous slide. There wasn’t a doubt in Jackson’s mind that Yibo would hit the beat no matter what position Jackson bent him to. They were in sync not only in skill but in motivation. When their bodies moved together, it was with a shared purpose: to convince the world that they were sexually involved. And as the song progressed, Jackson could nearly believe that they’d been wrapped up in each other for years.</p><p>He kept Yibo close even though the younger man didn’t show any interest in keeping space between them. After Yibo finished a move that required distance, he was right back up against Jackson, chests brushing, arms entangling, taking turns with Jackson over whose leg would push between the other man’s and apply pressure.</p><p>
  <i>Versace on the floor<br/>
Ooh take it off for me, for me, for me, for me now, girl, mmm</i>
</p><p>The smoky shadow around Yibo’s eyes deepened them, but didn’t hide the expansion of his pupils. The sheen on his lips was from the gloss he wore, but also because he kept licking them. Jackson saw the signs. He felt himself subconsciously reciprocating them. The hands he cupped around Yibo’s ass squeezed not only for show, but because when he squeezed and lifted, Yibo’s breath quickened. The fingers that curled against Jackson’s bare nape clawed at him with a growing, unmistakable hunger.</p><p>
  <i>Your head down to your heels<br/>
Don't be confused by my smile<br/>
'Cause I ain't ever been more for real, for real</i>
</p><p>Despite the growing pressure between them, Jackson didn’t forget his role. He drew back a hand and smacked Yibo’s ass. A woman somewhere yelped. Jackson didn’t give a shit about her because he’d just felt Yibo’s cock jerk against his hip through three layers of fabric.</p><p>“Spanking, too?” Jackson asked as he moved his palm in a slow circle over Yibo’s ass. “Let me guess: you also like to be tied up.”</p><p>Fingernails dug into the back of Jackson’s neck. It hurt, but he didn’t pull out of Yibo’s grip.</p><p>“Daddy’s favorite boy is a very bad boy,” Jackson taunted. He pulled Yibo’s hips hard against him, showing off to Yibo what was going on in his trousers. “And that’s okay. Turns out I find bad boys to be very, very sexy.”</p><p>
  <i>Oh, seems like you're ready for more, more, more<br/>
Let's just kiss 'til we're naked</i>
</p><p>He kept Yibo moving, using the dancing to distract Yibo and keep him from running off. They had an audience. Their performance couldn’t fall apart if Yibo became squeamish. However, as they danced, Yibo kept close. His hands, which before had touched only Jackson’s jacket or his shoulders, now fell occasionally to his hips. He was nervous, and that was okay. Jackson was counting on him to be curious, too.</p><p>The song trailed off, bleeding into a soft pop tune that was more sugar than spice. Jackson looked past Yibo’s shoulder at the rooftop. Dozens of pairs of eyes looked back at him along with a handful of cellphones, quickly lowered. <i>Mission accomplished,</i> Jackson told himself. </p><p>But his own mission wasn’t yet complete.</p><p>He caught Yibo by his narrow wrist and pulled him away from the rail. He dragged him through the restaurant, clearly in charge, clearly eager to be somewhere else. Let the onlookers draw their own salacious conclusions as to where Jackson was taking him and for what reason. The rumors were more important than the truth.</p><p>Although in this case, if Jackson had his way, they would be one and the same.</p><p>He signaled impatiently to their server, who met them at the hostess stand with the check. Jackson had just handed his card over since the place was too swanky for phone payments, when two men walked up. </p><p>Jackson knew both of them through networking. He’d never worked directly with either man. That superficial familiarity didn’t deter them from addressing Jackson as though they were fast friends.</p><p>“Surprised to see you here!” said the younger of the two men. Jackson couldn’t recall his name and didn’t make an effort to. “Was just arguing with Kaige here that there was no way Jackson Wang would be at <i>Flair</i> with Wang Yibo. Impossible, I said.”</p><p>“I should have bet him money,” the man called Kaige said. He had a too-wide smile on his face as he looked between Jackson and Yibo. “Well, well, well. How is your father, Wang Yibo? He must be in a forgiving mood these days, eh?”</p><p>The once-over he gave Yibo set Jackson’s teeth on edge. Yibo, as usual, was expressionless, but Jackson thought he’d learned enough about him to tell that he was annoyed, too.</p><p>
Fortunately, these guys were exactly the people he and Jackson needed to advance their agenda.</p><p>“What Wang Zheng doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right, guys?” Jackson reached over and caught Yibo’s chin in his hand, startling the younger man. It was a touch of possession, of claiming, and it was rude to do it in front of others. Jackson half-expected Yibo to jerk away and wouldn’t have blamed him for doing so. </p><p>Incredibly, though, Yibo endured the hold. So Jackson powered on. </p><p>“You can keep a secret this good, can’t you?” he asked in his smuggest, most asshole-ish tone. In front of the other two men, Jackson pressed his thumb to the rouge on Yibo’s lips with the intention of dragging it across his mouth and cheek.</p><p>But Yibo had other ideas. He parted his lips, causing Jackson’s thumb to pop into his mouth. He immediately closed his lips around the digit. Yibo lowered his lashes to half-mast as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked.</p><p>Jackson forgot how to form words as he stared. He’d had plenty of blowjobs, but this felt like the filthiest one. Each wet pull on his thumb was obscene because it was being done in public, out in the open. Without thinking, he pushed his thumb in up to the second knuckle, just to see what Yibo would do. He nearly groaned when Yibo hummed and sucked him more firmly. Yibo loved blowjobs. Yibo might like getting his face fucked. This revelation sparked lights inside Jackson’s skull. He wanted to do more, wanted to test Yibo’s gag reflex by plunging two fingers down his throat. He wanted to see Yibo drool, wanted to see those red, fat lips stretched wide—</p><p>But after a final suck, Yibo released him. He slid his tongue across his lower lip languidly, as though chasing a release that wasn’t there.</p><p>Jackson had to look away from him. His cock <i>throbbed</i> and demanded that he act on what Yibo’s mouth had offered. That, however, would be a mistake since it was only an act.  </p><p>It was a shock to the system, then, when Yibo said in his low, deep voice, “I thought you said you were booking us a room and tying me up.”</p><p>Kaige’s mouth fell open. His friend looked as though he’d suffered an aneurysm. </p><p>Jackson needed a moment to scrape his own brains off the floor.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “I did say that, didn’t I?” </p><p>The cat was so far out of the bag he was left holding nothing but fur. Odds were, both of these men would go straight to Wang Zheng tonight, hoping to curry favor with the powerful businessman. This was perfect. This was nerve-wracking.</p><p>Jackson gathered his composure and resumed his asshole act. “My friend here gets moody when he’s not taken care of. I know better than to let that go too far, though.” He rolled his eyes, as though Yibo’s high maintenance attitude was a headache he was forced to deal with on a regular basis. “Excuse us, will you? I need to take care of this. Have a nice evening, gentlemen.”</p><p>The two men mumbled similar words of parting and stumbled away. They’d gone not ten feet before their heads bent together as they no doubt tried to figure out how to use their newfound knowledge to their advantage.</p><p>Jackson put them out of his mind as he accepted his credit card back. He finally dared to look at Yibo. The younger man stared back, dark-eyed and expressionless. His skirt was tented in front obscenely.</p><p>Lightning snapped through Jackson at the sight of that bulging skirt. With Yibo’s words still tickling his ears, he pushed Yibo into the elevator and punched the button for the lobby.</p><p>He wet his lips as he looked at Yibo’s reflection in the brass wall. “What you said. Did you mean it? Or was it just for—” </p><p>“Yes,” Yibo replied, staring straight ahead. </p><p>No one needed to tell Jackson twice. Once they hit the bottom floor he went straight to the registration desk for a room, then dragged Yibo into another elevator to arrive at a different floor.</p><p>“You’re like an animal,” Yibo said as Jackson pushed him inside their room.</p><p>“A horny one,” Jackson agreed before he pressed Yibo against a wall. When Yibo raised his hands, Jackson caught them and pinned them above his head. Yibo didn’t fight. Jackson hadn’t expected him to. Submission was pouring off him like pheromones and it was all Jackson could do not to tear into him.</p><p>He knew better than to do so. Something about Yibo was fragile. It could be his uncertainty about his sexuality, but Jackson didn’t think so. This was a crack deep inside. Something driven there by someone else that was gradually widening.</p><p>“Why the change of heart?” he demanded.</p><p>“All you should care is that I’m here,” Yibo muttered impatiently. “Why complicate this?”</p><p>
  <i>Why, indeed?</i>
</p><p>“Then here’s the deal: I don’t care who you were with before.” Jackson slotted his knee between Yibo’s bare thighs and wedged them open. “I don’t care if you think you aren’t gay. You’re attracted to me and that’s all that matters.”</p><p>“If your bank account were as big as your ego you wouldn’t be forced to whore yourself like this,” Yibo murmured in a flat voice. “It’s a pity.”</p><p>Jackson wasn’t fooled. He put weight on Yibo’s wrists, grinding them into the wall. “I’m not being forced to do this part. This part is the gravy for me.” </p><p>After several seconds, Yibo swallowed. “Are you just going to stare?”</p><p>“I don’t think you realize what you look like right now.”</p><p>Yibo’s gaze fell away to somewhere past Jackson’s shoulder. “You must have a poor opinion of yourself to be so fascinated.”</p><p>Jackson smirked. “No. I know exactly how handsome I am. <i>Very</i>, by the way. But I’m not beautiful. Not like a…piece of art.” Jackson gave in to his urges and pressed his hips into Yibo’s. “That’s how much I’m turned on by art.”</p><p>“You’d be turned on by any—”</p><p>“No,” Jackson cut him off. “I’m not like that. I have high standards.”</p><p>Yibo appeared skeptical. </p><p>“You’re afraid,” Jackson said.</p><p>Yibo opened his mouth. Closed it. Frowned before saying, “I’m not.”</p><p>“I only want to make you feel good,” Jackson said as he leaned in close. “I won’t hurt you.”</p><p>“Good, because you can’t.”</p><p>“Good,” Jackson echoed, though a voice in his head warned that Yibo wasn’t telling the truth. All his snarky responses, his attitude—they were armor to protect him. Happy people didn’t wear armor. </p><p>“I won’t hurt you. Not unless it’s the kind of hurt you like.” He pressed Yibo’s wrists harder to the wall.</p><p>Yibo’s breath fluttered out of him as he looked away, unable to meet Jackson’s eyes. For all the sharpness of his jawline, he looked soft.</p><p>“I thought about spanking you for real up there on the roof,” Jackson told him in a lowered voice.</p><p>Yibo shut his eyes.</p><p>“I bet you were hoping I would,” Jackson whispered as color washed across Yibo’s cheeks. “My bare hand up beneath your skirt, slapping you right over those panties…while everyone watched…”</p><p>“I’m not into…” Yibo trailed off before biting his bottom lip.</p><p>“I’m being honest with you,” Jackson murmured. “Please extend me the same courtesy.”</p><p>He crossed Yibo’s wrists and held them in place with one hand. It was a simple hold to break, but Yibo didn’t try. He kept his eyes shut as Jackson reached beneath his skirt, fingers gliding along his inner thighs, making the smooth skin quiver.</p><p>“I bet you wished I’d stripped you down,” Jackson continued as his fingertips stroked up and down, warmed by the heat of Yibo’s groin. “Bet you wished I’d made you dance for me while in your panties. You’re a gorgeous dancer, Yibo. It’d be a pleasure to watch your body move.”</p><p>“I’m not a stripper,” Yibo gritted out, opening his eyes and flashing a threatening glare at Jackson.</p><p>“You’ll be whatever I say you are.” Jackson curled a fingertip up the front of Yibo’s panties to trace the line of his cock. Yibo shuddered. “I would have bent you over the rail. Made you spread your legs so everyone could see this bulge. And then I would have made you count out loud as I spanked you, so that everyone there could hear it when you broke.” Jackson licked at his earlobe. “I think it’s overdue, don’t you?”</p><p>“No,” Yibo whispered.</p><p>“You’re a spoiled little brat who needs to be put in your place.”</p><p>“I wasn’t spoiled,” Yibo croaked. “My father likes me about as much as he likes you.”</p><p>Jackson nuzzled his throat. “Mmm, and that gets you off, knowing that his hated enemy is dirtying you up.”</p><p>
  <i>“Yes.”</i>
</p><p>Yibo rolled his head against the wall. His eyes practically blazed.</p><p>Jackson couldn’t bear it. “Tell me,” he demanded roughly as he pressed against him. “How far can I go?”</p><p>Yibo tilted his chin up, offering his throat. “Depends on you.”</p><p>Jackson gripped that chin and pulled it back down, forcing their eyes to meet. “You’re not getting off that easy. You’re going to tell me, <i>explicitly</i>, what you’ll let me do to you.”</p><p>“I’ll let you…kiss me.”</p><p>Jackson didn’t laugh. Yibo wasn’t trying to be difficult. Jackson could read the struggle in him, and flashed back to their similar conversation in Yibo’s apartment.</p><p>“How do I kiss you?” Jackson urged. He rocked his hips slowly. “Only on the mouth?”</p><p>“You can—” Yibo tried to turn his face away again but Jackson kept a firm hold of his pointed chin. He glared defiantly at Jackson. “I’ll let you blow me.”</p><p>Jackson nodded. “I’d love to.”</p><p>His sincerity seemed to brighten the blush on Yibo’s cheeks.</p><p>“I want to blow you in this skirt,” he told Yibo. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the tip of his chin. “I’m going to do it right now.”</p><p>He released Yibo’s wrists. Yibo didn’t lower his arms. Amused by that, Jackson rewarded him by sliding his hand down the front of Yibo’s throat and applying pressure there.</p><p>“Be a good boy,” Jackson told him, “and make a lot of noise for me, okay?”</p><p>He squeezed and Yibo’s breath left him in a heavy sigh while his lashes sagged. Though Jackson had promised him a blowjob, he couldn’t move on just yet. Yibo’s plump, parted lips needed some attention. </p><p>They opened wider when Jackson kissed them, and it was Yibo’s tongue that came out to play first. Jackson loved the way their mouths melted together and how forcefully Yibo liked to use his tongue. It was an aggressive way to kiss, and while Jackson normally preferred a softer approach, this was a kiss that fit Yibo: demanding and yet partly defensive. Yibo was forcing the dance into Jackson’s mouth rather than hosting it.</p><p>It was the kind of kiss to twist a knife of desire deep inside Jackson. Sloppy, wet, punctuated by hot and heavy breaths—and to top it off it was with someone Jackson shouldn’t be kissing, so the forbidden allure made it all the spicier. He could have spent hours soaking in it, but he wanted more.</p><p>He pulled away. Yibo, with his eyes closed, swayed after him. Jackson wasn’t strong enough to resist that pouting mouth. He dove back in with a groan, this time taking the lead and pushing his tongue forward. Yibo startled as it slipped past his lips. Jackson could practically <i>hear</i> his eyes snap open. Jackson filled his mouth, relentless, letting Yibo know that it took two to tango. There’d be no hiding in the corners like a shy virgin.</p><p>“I thought—” Yibo’s words were muffled against Jackson’s lips. “I thought you were gonna—blow me.”</p><p>“Mmm, your fault.” Jackson licked at his lips before sucking on his upper one. “You distracted me with your awesome kissing.”</p><p>“But I want to feel your mouth on me,” Yibo panted, which brought Jackson’s eyes open. “Around me.”</p><p>Jackson’s abdominal muscles clenched. He was a fan of this version of Yibo who asked for what he wanted. </p><p>He traced Yibo’s bottom lip with a fingertip. “Ask me nicely, then,” he said, figuring there was a fifty-fifty chance Yibo would tell him to go to hell.</p><p>“Please, ge.”</p><p>It sounded so natural falling off Yibo’s lips that Jackson believed begging was something Yibo was practiced at. Perhaps with that strong jie jie that Yixing insisted existed. </p><p>Or maybe it had been with a gege…</p><p>“You’ll be a good boy and make noise for me?” Jackson asked, pushing his luck.</p><p>Apparently Yibo was as horny as he was, for he said, “If you give me a reason to be loud.”</p><p><i>Am I being played here?</i> Jackson couldn’t help the suspicion. Yet there was no faking the bulge in Yibo’s skirt or the other signs of arousal on his body. No matter what, Yibo was as into this as Jackson was.</p><p>He touched a kiss to Yibo’s Adam’s apple, another to his exposed collarbones. Since Yibo continued to hold his arms above his head, his blouse rode high on his shoulders. No matter. Jackson promised to visit his little nipples later.</p><p>He lowered himself to his knees.</p><p>Yibo let out a sound that he quickly clipped short.</p><p>“Nuh uh,” Jackson chided him before he kissed the strip of skin between to the top of Yibo’s left boot and the hem of his skirt. “Be good for me.”</p><p>With excruciating care, he began rolling up the bottom of Yibo’s skirt, uncovering more smooth, milky skin stretched over lean muscle. What a treat this was, something Jackson had never experienced with a lover. The feminine clothing made the simple act of reaching Yibo’s cock something novel and exciting. <i>Would Yixing ever go for something like this?</i></p><p>Jackson snorted. Yixing, for as brilliant and driven as he was in business, for as experienced as he was in life, didn't like to experiment in bed. Yixing could be deliciously authoritarian and knew how to get Jackson begging, but cross-dressing was a bridge too far.</p><p>No, if Jackson wanted to venture into foreign lands, he’d have to do it with Yibo as his guide. He rolled the skirt up over Yibo’s panties, at last revealing his prize.</p><p>The brief glimpse of them in the car hadn’t prepared Jackson for the sight of the black satin and lace stretched to their limit by Yibo’s cock. Where the head pressed distinctly against the fabric, a spot of precum bloomed.</p><p>“Jesus,” Jackson breathed in genuine awe. “You are a sight for the eyes, Wang Yibo.”</p><p>“Stop looking and do something,” Yibo grated out. He spread his booted feet and rolled his hips toward Jackson’s face.</p><p>It would have been fun to tease, but Jackson’s own cock was so swollen it was beginning to hurt. Holding Yibo by the slim hips, he lapped at the black satin, chasing the taste of precum. He sucked the saltiness out of the fabric while Yibo gasped and writhed against the wall.</p><p>“You’ve felt this before,” Jackson said against the wet cloth before he dragged his tongue up the curve of Yibo’s covered cock. “Admit it.”</p><p>“I admit it.”</p><p>“I mean having a man do this to you.” Jackson sucked at Yibo’s tip, which was on the verge of peeking above his straining panties. “You’re no virgin with men, are you, Yibo? You’ve let them have you.”</p><p>Yibo groaned and shuddered. “Stop talking.”</p><p>“I bet none of them listened to you, either.” Jackson scraped his teeth around the stiff tube of flesh. “And you like that.”</p><p>A muffled sound, as though Yibo were pinching his lips together, was the only answer. Jackson took it as assent. He could tell Yibo was getting off on having his layers slowly peeled back.</p><p>Jackson rubbed his nose across the plump, firm balls that were edging out of the leg holes of the panties. They were shaved smooth, which Jackson found extremely interesting. He lapped at them, tasting more saltiness, before closing his teeth around lace and tugging meaningfully.</p><p>“Do it,” Yibo gasped. His upper body remained pressed to the wall but he’d arched the rest of himself forward in a curve of yearning. “Take them off me.”</p><p>“I’m keeping everything else on,” Jackson declared, already hooking his fingers in the top of the panties. He watched with relish as the satin cleared the head of Yibo’s cock and glided down his hips. He didn’t watch them fall to tangle around Yibo’s boots, though, because a sweeter sight demanded his attention.</p><p>With a groan, he took hold of Yibo by the base and brushed Yibo’s cock along his cheeks. “How many men?” he whispered as he smoothed the velvety stalk all over his face.</p><p>“Shut…up.”</p><p>“Tell me or you’re not getting my mouth.” Jackson brought the head to his lips and rubbed it across them. His lips moved languidly over the slippery tip as he said, “How many men have had you, Wang Yibo, you little liar?”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Yibo whispered. But the words were heavy with lust and a plea.</p><p>Jackson smiled before opening his mouth and taking him in.</p><p>He knew lots of ways to seduce through a blowjob, but he didn’t bother with any of them. Yibo already belonged to him; it was just a matter of time before Yibo openly admitted it. Instead, Jackson gave him a blowjob of pure honesty, swallowing him voraciously, as though he hadn’t had cock in years and had forgotten how exquisite the warmth and weight and hardness could feel against his tongue. Yibo bucked and whimpered but Jackson didn’t relent, didn’t back off. He deepthroated him expertly and used his muscles to squeeze the tip. He sucked and he licked, coaxing more precum to drizzle forth, and he dug his fingers into Yibo’s hips with no care as to whether Yibo would be doing a photoshoot anytime soon. Jackson <i>wanted</i> him to bruise. When Yibo left him later tonight, he’d do so carrying the marks of Jackson’s ownership.</p><p>He slid his hands back to grip Yibo’s muscular ass and pull him in. As he buried his nose against Yibo’s groin, his fingertips dug into the meatiness of Yibo’s ass and spread him. Jackson waited for the twisting action to free himself, but Yibo must have been too absorbed in the blowjob to notice what Jackson’s hands were up to. It gave him the opportunity he needed to ease his hands closer together and slip his middle finger up the seam of Yibo’s ass. As soon as he found Yibo’s pucker, he pressed against it, letting Yibo know where he hoped this night was heading.</p><p>His fingertip slid in easily.</p><p>Jackson choked on Yibo’s cock and had to pull back slightly. He looked up, but Yibo’s face was turned up to the ceiling. Heart hammering, Jackson eased his finger in deeper. It glided right in, its passage eased by lube and plenty of stretching.</p><p>He didn’t think, just moved his forefinger up beside the first and pushed it in, too. Yibo moaned as Jackson’s two fingers filled him.</p><p>“What the hell,” Jackson gasped, letting Yibo’s cock pop free. “You were ready for this?!”</p><p>“How stupid do you think I am?” Yibo shot back, finally looking down at him. He was rosy-cheeked and a bit dazed-looking. He clenched around Jackson’s fingers and shuddered. “You’ve been panting after me from the beginning.”</p><p>“Yeah, and you also frickin’ told me you’re straight and have been holding me at—” Jackson stopped, took a deep breath. What was he even doing, arguing about this?</p><p>He pulled his fingers out and shot to his feet. Yibo, surprised by his quick action, finally dropped his hands to a defensive position. Jackson gave him nothing to fight. He grabbed Yibo by one arm and manhandled him face-first against the wall, a task made easier with Yibo tripping over the panties still tangled around his boots.</p><p>“You wanna get fucked?” Jackson asked as he pressed against Yibo’s back. “No straight guy I know lubes and stretches himself. Neither does a guy who intends to say no.”</p><p>Yibo scratched at the wall as he panted against it. “I’m not saying no.”</p><p>Jackson’s vision whited out for a split second. He fumbled with his pants before finally getting them open and yanking his underwear down. At the last second he remembered to dig out his wallet and get a condom. He nearly burst when he smoothed it over himself. He nearly lost control a second time when he fit himself up against Yibo and his cock sprang naturally into the warm space behind Yibo’s balls.</p><p>“Tell me no,” Jackson gritted out as he notched himself into place. The fingers of one hand crushed Yibo’s thin hip while the other curved around the front of his throat. “Tell me no and I’ll stop.”</p><p>Yibo reached up, covered the hand on his throat, and squeezed.</p><p>Jackson pushed the head of his cock into him.</p><p>They both gasped as Yibo’s ass muscles clutched the invasion, but Jackson didn’t stop there. He couldn’t, not with Yibo trembling and his ass sucking at him. He kept going, using his hips to guide his heavy slide into clenching heat and slickness. He opened Yibo in a seemingly never-ending thrust. When his hips finally pressed against Yibo’s ass, putting them heat to heat, he still couldn’t stop trying to burrow deeper.</p><p>Yibo moaned and his back arched as though Jackson’s cock were torqueing his body. “Full,” he gasped.</p><p>“You play with toys.” Jackson’s forehead dropped against the back of Yibo’s neck. “Holy hell, you do this all the time.”</p><p>“Just shut up,” Yibo panted, refusing to admit it. “Just shut up and—”</p><p>Jackson squeezed his throat. He listened to Yibo wheeze for breath as he pulled back and sank back in. It was the dirtiest thing Jackson could remember doing and yet he was utterly lacking in shame. </p><p>He tossed back his head, groaning at the ceiling as Yibo’s channel rippled along his length. He lost himself to the rhythm of sinking into Yibo’s heat and dragging out until Yibo’s pink rim stretched around the head of his cock. When he choked Yibo harder, Yibo clamped down so perfectly Jackson saw stars.</p><p>“How are you not getting fucked every day?” Jackson picked up the pace, needing to feel Yibo’s body jolt from the fucking. “How is a fat cock not in this ass twenty-four hours a day?”</p><p>“I need it,” Yibo said shakily. He’d flattened both palms against the wall and his long fingers clawed and flexed, alternating with Jackson’s thrusts.</p><p>“I know you do, baby, that’s why I’m asking.” </p><p>“I can’t—trust.” </p><p>Yibo suddenly whimpered as Jackson shifted his stance.</p><p>Jackson’s grin was smug. His cock felt like it had swelled another inch from Yibo’s reaction. “I always find it,” he murmured before kissing Yibo’s shoulder. “Dance for me, Yibo.”</p><p>They ended up dancing together—a delicious, dangerous dance where Jackson choked Yibo until he began to struggle and then loosened his grip so Yibo could draw enough breath to moan as Jackson worked him over. Jackson had never before fucked a person to teach them a lesson, but it felt like he was doing that now. </p><p>“You’ve been driving me crazy.” Jackson scraped his teeth along the back of his neck while his hips continued to churn. “That mouth of yours keeps pushing me away but every other part of your body has been begging for this. Such a pretty liar, Yibo. Such a bad, bad boy.”</p><p>Yibo groaned deep in his chest, and it made Jackson throb. “Yeah,” Jackson whispered. “I’ve got your number. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re mine now.”</p><p>The words were outrageous but they were hot and Jackson couldn’t help himself. He loved dirty talk and Yibo seemed to enjoy listening to it.</p><p>“Next time you see your daddy, I want you to remember being fucked against the wall,” Jackson told him filthily. He punctuated the words with hard thrusts that slammed Yibo's breath from him. “I want him to see it on your face: Jackson Wang’s cock was deep inside his baby boy.”</p><p>The strangled moan Yibo emitted had nothing to do with the hand around his throat. Jackson felt faint from lust.</p><p>The scent of Chanel Bleu, sweat, and musk filled Jackson’s nostrils. His grip on Yibo’s hip grew slippery with sweat, forcing him to dig in hard with his fingers. There was no question he’d leave his mark on Yibo for days to come. Crazy, twisted up thoughts like <i>he's mine</i> and <i>I’m locking him up</i> clouded Jackson’s brain and he let it happen. Everything felt too good to fight any of it.</p><p>When he came, it was a surprise, like a sucker punch from a friend, driving the air from his lungs. His body convulsed. His teeth sank into the back of Yibo’s bare shoulder. He vaguely registered Yibo crying out from the pain, but Jackson was too far gone to control himself as he bit down. He ground hard against Yibo’s ass, trying to stuff himself as deep into Yibo as he could, as he poured his release into the condom.</p><p>It went on and on…until it didn’t. He collapsed against Yibo’s back while his heart continued to thunder in his ears. Yibo scratched at the wall and made a sound that was high-pitched and anxious. His body was still strung tight, his Adam’s apple bobbing sporadically beneath Jackson’s palm.</p><p>“Please,” he gasped, twisting his shoulders. “I haven’t cum yet.”</p><p>“I’ve got you,” Jackson said hoarsely. He shifted his grip to clamp down on the long stretch of Yibo’s nape. He used the hold to steer Yibo away from the wall and to the bed.</p><p>Yibo tripped over the panties still wound around his boots, falling to his knees just before the edge of the mattress. Jackson followed him down, using his hold on the back of Yibo’s neck to pin his upper body to the bed. His bare ass was a plump peach, rosy and round. Without a word, Jackson plunged three fingers into his glistening, stretched hole.</p><p>Yibo arched as much as he could. His moan was grateful and whore-ish, like he’d never received a better gift than that of Jackson’s fingers. It drove Jackson to quickly seek out his prostate. When he found it, he torment it while Yibo bucked violently against the bed.</p><p>“Come on,” Jackson cajoled above Yibo’s cries. He punched in and stroked across the gland. “I know it feels good. It feel so, so good, doesn’t it, baby? Come on, Yibo, you can do it.”</p><p>Yibo whined and snapped his legs wider. He ripped one leg hole of his panties, freeing him to spread his knees and push his ass back. Jackson stared at his slutty stance and at his own shiny fingers plunging in and out of Yibo’s hole.</p><p>“Shit,” he breathed. “Look at you.”</p><p>Maybe Yibo heard him, maybe Jackson’s fingers were enough.  A few seconds later, Yibo ground down against the bed and began to shake. Jackson was evil and horny and kept the pressure against his prostate. He knew it was too much sensation. Yibo cried into the sheets and writhed to get away. But Jackson massaged every last drop of spunk out of him because he could. Because a switch had flipped in his mind and everything had changed.</p><p>Shocked by his thoughts, he pulled his fingers free. Yibo didn’t react, just lay there, panting into the sheets while his hole gaped. Jackson ran his eyes down the length of his long, sweat-sheened body and his mouth went dry.</p><p>“I gotta go,” he muttered.</p><p>He hadn’t removed any clothing, so once he disposed of the condom all he had to do was close up his pants. He stood in the entryway, looking back at the bed where Yibo hadn’t moved.</p><p>Jackson cleared his throat. “Be careful. The word is out now. We should, uh, appear together for something tomorrow. Like lunch, maybe. Just so people see it wasn’t a one-time thing.”</p><p>“Wasn’t it?”</p><p>Yibo’s voice was muffled and unreadable. But it sounded cold to Jackson. Stony. Or maybe that was him finally feeling the guilt.</p><p>“I’ll call you,” Jackson said, avoiding the question. “In the morning.”</p><p>When Yibo said nothing, Jackson let himself out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you soooo much for all the kind comments left on this work and my other stories. I, of course, read them all, but I made the mistake of telling myself I'd reply to them when I had more time and of course now they've built up into an immense, daunting mountain that I don't know how to tackle. But from now on, I will respond to every comment. </p>
<p>I'm too tired at the moment to edit this, so read at your own risk. Shouldn't be too bad, though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>“I’ll call you. In the morning.”</i>
</p>
<p>Yibo’s smile was a slice of ice in the silent hotel room. His entire body lacked warmth. A shiver raced down his spine. Then another. Goosebumps sprang up across his skin like a rash. </p>
<p>He didn’t want to move. Moving meant feeling his limbs and the impressions that Jackson’s hands had left on them. Moving meant feeling the slickness between his buttocks and the slow trickle of it down the inside of his thigh, explicit evidence that he had let someone in, literally. He gritted his teeth against the growing need to be sick and slid off the bed. Stumbling blindly in the dark, he made it into the bathroom just in time. </p>
<p>He groaned after he’d purged himself, but he still didn’t feel right. He felt wrong. So very wrong.</p>
<p>He knew this feeling, but it had been a long time since he’d experienced it. Pushing the memory out of his head, he filled the tub with water as hot as he could stand and flopped inside it, uncaring of the splash of overflow onto the tiles. Shivering, he curled up into a fetal position. With his lips just cresting the surface of the water, he willed himself to calm down.</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’ll call you. In the morning.”</i>
</p>
<p>“No, you won’t,” he whispered, eyes clenched shut. He stuffed the memory of Jackson’s promise out of his head, but another memory of a different voice pushed up to take its place:</p>
<p>
  <i>“I wish I could make you understand, Yibo. This is…complicated.”</i>
</p>
<p>He snorted, rippling the water with his breath.</p>
<p>
  <i>“You’re too much for me. You need someone who can handle you. I’ll…I’ll call you in the morning. We need to talk about this when we’re both clear-headed.”</i>
</p>
<p>Yibo hadn’t answered that phone call when it came. He’d deleted the contact, tried to delete the entire person from his memory. But human brains weren’t so efficient. And the world refused to play nice and block out what Yibo didn’t want to see or hear. He’d been haunted, hounded, his suffering compounded by the fact it was his own doing. He couldn’t let the relationship go. He never failed at anything he did, and yet this, something so important to him, had crashed and burned, steered into the wall by his needs. Why was he so needy…?</p>
<p>It was only recently that he’d begun believing in recovery. It felt like he had moved on. How else to explain how he could open himself so foolishly to Jackson Wang? The man was being paid to play Yibo’s lover. Where had existed in that scenario anything to make Yibo believe he could risk himself again like this?</p>
<p>He groaned, the sound echoing mournfully in the bathroom. He hated himself so much. He hated how weak he was, how easily he crumpled out of loneliness. He could buy a hundred friends, but instead he’d done this. He could have lived without the sex. Men didn’t die if they didn’t have sex. They were just miserable.</p>
<p>But he was tired of being miserable.</p>
<p><i>Why is it wrong to want contact? Why can’t another person hold me? Why can’t I have it without it all turning to shit?</i> He turned his face into the water for a few seconds before pulling out and letting the droplets slip from his nose and lips. <i>I have so much. Why can’t I be happy?</i></p>
<p>The water cooled. He kicked the stopper to let some of it drain out and then turned on the faucet again, refilling the tub with heat. His mood was improving, but he didn’t possess the energy to re-dress and figure out how to get home. Paparazzi would be camped outside the hotel by now, waiting to catch him just as they’d undoubtedly caught Jackson leaving. Yibo wouldn’t avoid the scene since it played into his plans, but he dreaded it all the same. No matter how well he hid it, he detested revealing himself to vultures.</p>
<p>He continued to hug himself in the water and told himself he was on his way to getting what he wanted: his freedom. But he couldn’t help wishing there was someone there to wash his hair. And he wished someone would call him other than to apologize for not wanting him.</p>
<p><i>“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re mine now,”</i> Jackson had said.</p>
<p>Yibo shut his wet eyes and whispered, “Bullshit.”</p>
<p>~~~~~</p>
<p>Jackson’s call came a little after nine, but after checking the caller ID to confirm it was him, Yibo slid his phone back into the pocket of his shorts and continued skateboarding.</p>
<p>He was doing what he didn’t do often: avoiding the inevitable. An older friend had taught him the importance of not procrastinating, and for the most part Yibo handled business when he needed to. But this was personal. Despite a night in his own bed, he still felt off, like he’d fallen off his skateboard and tumbled onto his head. Distance from Jackson should clear his mind, and Yibo admitted to himself that he hoped his pettiness made the other man feel guilty.</p>
<p>In the shadows of the trees lining the wide boardwalk, his bodyguards stood watch. Yanyan and Lele had hustled him out of the hotel last night and into a waiting car. As expected, the paparazzi had photographed every second of it. Yibo hadn’t checked yet, but he’d bet a fortune that the photos and video were circulating around the gossip blogs and had made it onto the entertainment news sites. His father didn’t pay attention to such sources, but there would be those near him who did. When they summoned the nerve, they would show him what they’d found. But it might take a day or two. Zhang Weng was the kind of man to shoot the messenger.</p>
<p>Until then, this was the calm before the storm. Lele and Yanyan seemed to know this. It felt to Yibo that they were more watchful than usual. They took turns keeping an eye on him while scanning the passing traffic.</p>
<p>Their diligence permitted him to relax. The sun warmed his face. The breeze fluttered through his hair. Without makeup and styling products, dressed in board shorts and a T-shirt, he didn’t feel like Wang Yibo. He was just a guy trying to live. To have fun.</p>
<p>It wasn’t too difficult. He loved to ride his skateboard. He was blessed with a single-mindedness that allowed him to practice tricks continuously for hours without growing frustrated or bored. He was obsessed with mastering the things he liked, which was why his failures with personal relationship stung so badly. Practice couldn’t make those things better. </p>
<p>He skated up and down methodically, mostly ignored by the other skateboarders and the few pedestrians he passed. The clack of rubber tires striking pavement, the skid of wood, the occasional groan or cheer—the familiar sounds made by himself and the other skaters settled his mind.</p>
<p>He was so lost in the challenge of his tricks that he nearly didn’t notice Lele suddenly striding forward. Yibo hopped off his board and caught it absently as he tracked the bodyguard, who was moving to intercept an approaching figure carrying two white bags.</p>
<p>Jackson Wang raised the plastic KFC-branded bags to show Lele. “Only food! I swear it’s only chicken and Pepsi. Oh, and a chocolate tart because, I mean, come <i>on</i>.”</p>
<p>Yibo dropped his board and idly stepped onto the deck again. He kicked himself into motion as he watched the scene play out.</p>
<p>Neither Lele nor Yanyan knew all the details of the previous night. They knew Yibo had gone on a date. They believed—or at least accepted—Yibo’s claim that the person he was dating was Jackson. But the two men had been with Yibo since a little after his mother’s death, when Yibo had fallen out with his father and hired them. The bodyguards knew him better than most people did. Probably better than he realized they did. He could tell Lele knew something was up between him and Jackson. The big man wasn’t allowing Jackson to come any closer.</p>
<p>Yibo did an ollie out of habit, his mind half on the trick and half on the confrontation behind him. He didn’t know what to do. His heart and mind wanted two different things.</p>
<p>“Hey, Yibo,” Jackson called out.</p>
<p>Yibo kept skating, his head down. He wished his hair was still long so it would hide his face.</p>
<p>“It's lovely to see you again, Yibo. Are we doing this? There’s a reason I brought chicken today. Prove me wrong.”</p>
<p>Yibo brought the board to a halt and looked back over his shoulder. “Lele, let him through.”</p>
<p>“We’re in public,” Lele warned.</p>
<p>Yibo nodded, accepting the likelihood that hiding somewhere was a paparazzo, maybe more. He had to assume that his every action was being filmed and photographed. “It’s okay. Let him through.”</p>
<p>Lele stepped back. He had no reaction to the smug smile Jackson gave him as he passed. The bodyguard’s small eyes followed him as he walked onto the grass island that split the sidewalk where Yibo stood.</p>
<p>“You were right to suggest this,” Jackson said, nodding at Yibo. “Lunch inside a restaurant would have been too stuffy. It’s better to have a picnic. Good call.”</p>
<p>Yibo noticed the blanket draped through the arms of one of the bags.</p>
<p>“Do what you want,” he muttered and kicked the skateboard into motion again.</p>
<p>“I’ll do that, Yibo. Thank you!”</p>
<p>Jackson’s tone was teasing and friendly. It was as though last night hadn’t ended the way it had, which Yibo needed for the time being. Simply seeing the other man again made him nervous.</p>
<p>He skateboarded for ten minutes, doing his best to ignore Jackson, who had set himself up on the blanket on the grass and began to eat. Yibo was far from hungry, but after a while he began stealing glances at the picnic.</p>
<p>Jackson noticed. </p>
<p>“Should I save the white meat or dark meat for you?” he asked Yibo.</p>
<p>“Neither.”</p>
<p>Yibo skated off, did an ollie and a pop shove-it. Nailed both. He worked on his manual, conscious of Jackson watching. Once he realized he was showing off, Yibo kicked his board up and caught it. </p>
<p>“Why are you here?” he snapped.</p>
<p>Jackson, reclining on one elbow, raised a drumstick. “I’m eating!”</p>
<p>“You know what I mean.”</p>
<p>“We were supposed to do something together today,” Jackson elaborated, “but I guess you turned your phone off.” </p>
<p>Yibo fiddled with the edge of his board and absently spun the wheels with his fingers. “Things need to be different,” he said quietly.</p>
<p>It pained him to say it. It was openly admitting that Jackson had hurt him last night and Yibo didn’t want to give anyone that power over him. But he was tired and heartsore. The effort to hold up his walls seemed gargantuan.</p>
<p>“Yibo, come have some chicken.”</p>
<p>Jackson’s tone was gently coaxing, as though he could tell Yibo was ready to flinch at the slightest provocation. It was the only reason Yibo hooked his board beneath his arm and ventured onto the grass.</p>
<p>“I don’t want chicken,” he mumbled. He peered into the bucket anyway. “What’s left?”</p>
<p>“What do you like?” Jackson helpfully lifted the bucket for him to see into.</p>
<p>With a sigh, Yibo picked out a wing. He placed his board on the grass, but didn’t join Jackson on the blanket, electing to squat just outside of its perimeter as he picked at the chicken.</p>
<p>“I want us to talk about last night,” Jackson said.</p>
<p>Yibo looked up at him, but Jackson focused his attention on the small boxed tart he’d pulled out of the food bag.</p>
<p>As he fiddled with the box, Jackson continued. “I shouldn’t have left the way I did. That wasn’t me. I want you to know that. I’d punch myself if I could. Twice.” He looked up from beneath his brows, which had drawn tightly together. “I mean it. I was a real shit to you.”</p>
<p>Yibo shrugged and tore off pieces of shredded chicken. “Doesn’t matter.”</p>
<p>“Even if I pretended to believe you, it matters to me. I have <i>never</i> treated a lover like that. Never.”</p>
<p>
  <i>Lover.</i>
</p>
<p>The word swam warmly through Yibo’s veins, but he knew better than to savor the feeling.</p>
<p>“You were an asshole,” he said bluntly.</p>
<p>“You’re right. I was. One hundred percent. I’d kick the ass of anyone who treated me that way.”</p>
<p>“I don’t care enough about you to kick your ass.”</p>
<p>Yibo wished that were true, wished his heart was as cold as his tone. But it wasn’t. It burned as though acid were eating it from the inside. </p>
<p>“I hope that’s not the case,” Jackson said in a tone completely opposite from Yibo’s. It was warm and soft and invited Yibo closer. “I’m fully aware that you’re paying me to play your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends and respect each other.”</p>
<p>Yibo met his gaze. “This charade doesn’t require friendship or respect. All my father needs is to see you treating me exactly as you treated me last night.”</p>
<p>Jackson’s ruby lips parted, but he seemed to lack a counter. Yibo smirked bitterly at being able to silence him with the brutal truth. He chewed, not tasting anything, until Jackson spoke again.</p>
<p>“Were you okay?”</p>
<p>Yibo thought about standing up and walking away.</p>
<p>“I left without checking on you.” Jackson set the tart box down and ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “I don’t have a lot of experience with—<i>that</i>—but I did some research, so I know that I’m not supposed to just up and leave you after—”</p>
<p>“I was fine.” Yibo looked around for somewhere to toss his chicken bones.</p>
<p>“Were you really, Yibo?”</p>
<p>Jackson’s tone stabbed him through the throat. Yibo couldn’t swallow for the pain it caused him. He let the chicken bones fall from his fingers to the grass and swiveled away. He should get up. He should walk away.</p>
<p>“You needed someone there, didn’t you? Someone to ease you down.”</p>
<p>Yibo didn’t turn to look, but he could tell that Jackson was closer, like he’d crawled across the blanket. <i>Get up,</i> Yibo told himself. <i>Stand up, you idiot.</i></p>
<p>“I’m sorry I left you.” Jackson must be at the edge of the blanket. He was within touching distance of Yibo. “You probably felt terrible. Physically, I mean. I read it can be harsh. The brain chemistry and—”</p>
<p>“Just shut up,” Yibo choked out.</p>
<p>Jackson fell silent. Yibo regretted being so sharp with him. But this was what he wanted, right? This sweet revenge? </p>
<p>If only it didn’t taste so sour.</p>
<p>“Who takes care of you, Yibo?”</p>
<p>Yibo reached for his board and gripped it, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of sand paper against his fingertips. He spun a wheel, listening to the bearings whir.</p>
<p>“I looked up some photos of you. You’re always with different people. No one around you is ever the same. You’re like, I don’t know, a planet that people like to orbit before shooting off somewhere else. But maybe you need a moon that sticks around.”</p>
<p>“I hope you know,” Yibo whispered, “how stupid you sound.”</p>
<p>“Who takes care of you when you’re hurting?” Jackson persisted. “Your bodyguards? They seem like delightful guys but they’re not the ones you’re going to call for a hug, am I right?”</p>
<p>Yibo spun the wheel faster.</p>
<p>A hand wrapped around his wrist. “Please look at me.”</p>
<p><i>Stand up. Leave.</i> </p>
<p>Yibo turned his head.</p>
<p>Jackson’s somber gaze moved across his face. “I’m sorry, Yibo. I’m sorry for whatever you went through before I met you. I can tell it’s a lot. I wish I’d seen it sooner. Your father knew me for four years and nearly managed to destroy my soul. I can’t imagine what he could have done to someone he’s known their entire life.”</p>
<p>Yibo found the will to move, jerking his wrist free. He stood up and tried to think of something to say to refute Jackson or merely tell him off. But in the end, Yibo simply threw his board onto the sidewalk and jumped onto it, letting it carry him.</p>
<p>He knew he was running away. He didn’t care how it looked. It was a matter of self-preservation, of shoring up the crumbling walls. </p>
<p>Yet if he was so adamant to protect himself, why didn’t he call over Yanyan and Lele and tell them he wanted to leave? Why did a part of him want Jackson to keep talking?</p>
<p>His board clacked as he failed a trick. He kept going, missed another trick and had to chase the skateboard across the concrete. He couldn’t focus, but he kept trying, because that was what he did, what he <i>always</i> did. He kept trying, kept going, kept hoping. <i>One more try. This time might be the time it all works out. Just one more try.</i></p>
<p>“You’re relentless, huh?”</p>
<p>He missed a kick flip and sent the board spinning across the concrete. He threw a glare over his shoulder at Jackson, who’d abandoned his picnic and was standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets.</p>
<p>“You’re one of those guys who doesn’t like to concede defeat,” Jackson said. “I admire that. I wish I were more like that, but most things come pretty easy to me so I don’t have to try that hard.”</p>
<p>Yibo knew it was a trap, but he couldn’t resist walking into it.</p>
<p>“So you’re saying skateboarding comes easily to you?”</p>
<p>Jackson shrugged. “I’ve never tried it, but I’m very athletic.”</p>
<p>Yibo didn’t feel he had much of an ego when it came to boarding, so this boastfulness was too much. He retrieved his board and kicked it over to the other man.</p>
<p>“Go ahead. Show me why you don’t need to try.”</p>
<p>Jackson smirked and dragged the board closer with the toe of his shoe. He wasn’t wearing sneakers—he was dressed decently in long pants with stylish ankle boots—but he stepped cautiously onto the skateboard without offering any excuses. His arms came up immediately, flailing slightly to help him keep his balance as the board drifted slowly forward.</p>
<p>“Piece of cake,” Jackson said as the board jerkily coasted over the grooves in the concrete. His arms flapped when he pushed off a little more, increasing his speed. “Just a matter of time before I’m doing those flips you—”</p>
<p>The board shot forward like a rocket and Jackson, his weight too far back, fell off backwards, his arms pinwheeling madly. Yibo smirked before jogging after the board. He brought it back and dropped it in front of Jackson.</p>
<p>“Go on. That’s the extent of the effort you need, right? Before you’re good at this?”</p>
<p>Jackson sent him a look but carefully placed a boot on the board again. “Why don’t you tell me how to do that one trick where you flip the board around? Seems easy enough.”</p>
<p>Yibo swallowed his laughter. “Oh, sure. It’s <i>very</i> easy for a natural athlete like you. Just hook your toe under the edge and flick it. Piece of cake.”</p>
<p>“Alright.”</p>
<p>Brow furrowed with concentration, Jackson pushed off again, managing to maintain his balance slightly better this time. Yibo planted his hands on his hips and grinned. The moment Jackson shifted position, he was going to fall again. Yibo couldn’t wait.</p>
<p>It didn’t take long.</p>
<p>“Look, I’ve got the hang of—shit!” Jackson tumbled off the skateboard and sprawled backwards onto his ass.</p>
<p>Yibo threw back his head and wheezed with laughter.</p>
<p>“I nearly had it!” Jackson declared from the ground. “I did!”</p>
<p>He got up again and ran after the wayward skateboard. Tears gathered in Yibo’s eyes as he watched Jackson fall off again almost immediately and then trip over his own feet to roll across the concrete.</p>
<p>Yibo gasped for breath amid his laughter. </p>
<p>“You might be the worst—I’ve ever seen,” he choked out. “You’re terrible!”</p>
<p>From the ground, Jackson pointed at him. “Give me time! I’ll become the skateboarding ambassador, you’ll see.”</p>
<p>He kept trying. Yibo didn’t have the breath to point out that Jackson was contradicting his claim that he didn’t need to try; he was laughing too hard at him to speak.</p>
<p>Finally, after nearly getting nailed in the balls by the end of the board, Jackson dropped his head in defeat. “I yield.”</p>
<p>Yibo’s shoulders shook.</p>
<p>Jackson looked over at him and grinned. “You have a very funny-sounding laugh.” He sighed and dusted himself off. “So maybe it’s harder than it looks. You have my respect for making it look easy.”</p>
<p>Wiping at his eyes, Yibo fetched his skateboard and skated back to the other man. “You make me look good.”</p>
<p>“Har-har.” Jackson studied him from beneath the messy fall of his fringe. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh like that. It’s cute.”</p>
<p>Yibo shook his head in denial at being called cute, but he couldn’t stop smiling. The images of Jackson’s humiliation were too amusing to get over.</p>
<p>“You look different when you smile. I like it.”</p>
<p>Yibo looked away, feeling shy. He didn’t want to be easy. But he didn’t like holding grudges, either. It was a waste of energy.</p>
<p>“Truce?” Jackson held out his hand while smiling ruefully. “I think you agree that it’s more fun being friends.”</p>
<p>Yibo’s hand engulfed his as they shook. Jackson didn’t let go once they finished.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he said again, while looking deeply into Yibo’s eyes. “I wish I could go back and redo last night.”</p>
<p>Yibo tugged his hand free. “What would you do differently?”</p>
<p>He regretted the question since it revealed his neediness, but Jackson took it in stride.</p>
<p>“I’d stay, for one thing. Hold you as we both calmed down.” He leaned to the side to maintain eye contact when Yibo looked away. “And I’d talk to you. I think we need to.”</p>
<p>“This is all just for show,” Yibo forced himself to say. “The sex was sex. It didn’t mean anything. Right?”</p>
<p>Jackson caught his hand again and refused to let go when Yibo tried to pull free. “For better or worse, I believe in following your heart,” Jackson said. “Last night—I’m not gonna lie to you, Yibo. I enjoyed every second of it. Okay, not the end, but everything else. Every second of it. Some of it was new to me and I liked it a lot. I want to do it again.” He stepped closer, pulling Yibo’s hand to his chest. “I thought you were handsome and sexy and you blew my mind. You were more than I expected.”</p>
<p>“Because you didn’t expect anything.”</p>
<p>“Come on. Let’s be real. You know what people think when they look at you. I’m no different.” Jackson smirked. “But even with that expectation of how you’d be—you were more than that. Much more.”</p>
<p>“You were okay, too, I guess,” Yibo mumbled. He hid his smile as Jackson gaped at him.</p>
<p>“Only okay? I have some very distinct memories of last night that prove you think I’m far more than okay.” Jackson spread Yibo’s hand against himself. “I thought about them early this morning, when I woke up with wood.”</p>
<p>Yibo’s breath rattled from his chest. His board shorts were suddenly tighter.</p>
<p>“Then why did you leave like you did?” he demanded, trying to stay on track. “Everything was fine and then you practically ran out.”</p>
<p>Jackson heaved a great sigh, like this was a subject he’d spent a lot of time dwelling on. “Sometimes it’s best not to say everything. Too much truth can be bad, alright? Do you agree?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know.”</p>
<p>Jackson nodded. “Well, <i>I</i> know. I’m being a vague asshole, but let me have this. For now. Last night, I was caught off-guard by everything. I hadn’t planned on sex with you, for one thing. And then for it to be so good and our chemistry—it was a lot. I’m man enough to say it.”</p>
<p>“It scared you off,” Yibo stated, while staunchly refusing to allow himself to feel even a drop of hope.</p>
<p>“Too much of a good thing, yeah.”</p>
<p>Something was in Jackson’s tone and suddenly <i>he</i> was the one who couldn’t keep the eye contact. It made Yibo believe there was more to it. </p>
<p>
  <i>Don’t hope for anything, Yibo. How many times do you need to be taught this lesson?</i>
</p>
<p>“Anyway, I regretted it as soon as I hit the elevator,” Jackson went on. “But at that point what could I do, knock on the door and say, ‘hey, guess what I’m back? Just ran out for a quick breather?’ Yeah, no, that wasn’t happening. I’d blown it. I figured you wouldn’t want to see me. Today, I was relieved to track you down here. I would have stalked you all day if that was what it took to apologize.”</p>
<p>“How <i>did</i> you find me?”</p>
<p>“Only good skate park in Shanghai—”</p>
<p>“Is not this one,” Yibo cut in.</p>
<p>“Right, which is why I came to the <i>second</i> best park. I guessed, correctly, that you’d want to avoid your usual haunts to keep away from the media.”</p>
<p>Yibo reflexively looked around. Jackson still held his hand. Their pose was as damning as everything the cameras had caught last night. He didn’t notice anyone paying them unusual attention nor did he spy the telltale reflection of sunlight off camera lenses, but that meant little. The paparazzi earned their living by being sneaky and persistent. Odds were, some were already staked out here.</p>
<p>“Considering what happened last night,” Yibo began, “you need to decide if you want to keep this up. Things will—”</p>
<p>“I do.”</p>
<p>Jackson again wore that intense, almost angry, look on his face that Yibo now recognized as his serious face.</p>
<p>“You can’t freak out again,” Yibo warned him. “It’ll ruin everything.” <i>And me.</i></p>
<p>“I’ll kiss you right here and now,” Jackson stated firmly.</p>
<p>Yibo laughed uneasily. “That’s too much.”</p>
<p>“I’ll shade it with my hands. Like this.” He released Yibo only to cup Yibo’s cheeks with both hands. “Even with a zoom lens they won’t know for sure. It’s the ambiguity that will make the gossips go crazy.”</p>
<p>Yibo was only half-listening to him. The hands on his face stilled something anxious deep inside him. He was tempted to lean one way or the other to fully enjoy Jackson’s palm on his cheek. He didn’t, figuring that would seem weird, but the need was there to be held, even for a few seconds.</p>
<p>“Do whatever,” he heard himself say. He hoped he came across as impatient rather than eager. With the way Jackson was looking at him, though, he wasn’t sure he’d managed it.</p>
<p>“This reminds me of last night,” Jackson murmured. His thumbs moved, stroking across Yibo’s cheekbones. “You were so into it—like I was—but you made everything sound like a fight. Or a challenge. But none of it was, was it? You were prepared for me. You <i>wanted</i> me.”</p>
<p>“Why talk about the obvious?” Yibo snapped, genuine impatience filling him.</p>
<p>“Because there’s something more obvious that we haven’t talked about yet.” Jackson leaned forward, his dark eyes pinning Yibo in place. “Like your experience with men, and how much you’re not telling me.”</p>
<p>“If I were dating you,” Yibo said, “I’d tell you everything you want to know. But we’re not, so you’re getting what I give you.”</p>
<p>Jackson’s brows arrowed together. “Why is it such a big deal to tell me if you’ve been with a man before?”</p>
<p>“Because…” Yibo swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, nervous. “Because I’ve only been with one person and they…made an impact.”</p>
<p>Jackson’s frown deepened. For a long time he said nothing. His thumbs caressed Yibo’s cheeks again. “He hurt you.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to talk about it.”</p>
<p>“You’re not denying that it was a ‘he’.”</p>
<p>An inner wall crumbled. “I’m not.”</p>
<p>There. He’d said it. Not that the sexuality of his first lover was such a big deal, but acknowledging him beyond a vague ‘they’ was a step in a direction Yibo didn’t want to take. The past needed to remain behind him. He couldn’t circle back. He couldn’t handle it if he did.</p>
<p>“Did he hurt you physically?” Jackson winced as he asked.</p>
<p>Yibo shook his head. “No.” He smiled crookedly. “Though I begged him to.”</p>
<p>Jackson smiled, but it was fleeting, as though he could tell Yibo was acting. “He hurt you, though. Enough that you have trust issues.”</p>
<p>“Don’t we all?” Yibo retorted. “I’m not a special case. You don’t need to handle me differently.”</p>
<p>“I know, but…maybe I’d like to.”</p>
<p>
  <i> I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re mine now.</i>
</p>
<p>Yibo pulled Jackson’s hands away from his face. He didn’t miss the disappointment in Jackson’s eyes, nor his own, traitorous flare of yearning. Yibo picked up his board and held it against his chest.</p>
<p>“I’m done here,” he said. “What should we do?”</p>
<p>Jackson nodded and looked down at his boots briefly. When he raised his face he was smiling cockily. “The car is running and the tank is full of gas. I’d say we keep driving. Have you heard from Wang Zheng yet?”</p>
<p>Yibo shook his head. “I think it’s too early for that. Tonight at the earliest.”</p>
<p>“Then let’s go all out and have as much fun as we can before then. Be totally outrageous.” Jackson cocked a finger gun at him. “Let’s go shopping.”</p>
<p>Yibo was unsure how that would rile up his father, but he wasn’t concerned. He wanted to hang out with Jackson no matter what they did. It startled him to realize how long it had been since he’d wanted to spend time with anyone.</p>
<p><i>I have a friend,</i> he realized. <i>Jackson Wang is my friend.</i></p>
<p>He couldn’t even be ashamed by how happy that made him.</p>
<p>“I have a lot of money,” he declared with a grin. “Let’s see how much we can blow.”</p>
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